


Hold Yourself Together

by SansyFresh



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Abuse, Angst, Bad Bro AU, Emotional Abuse, Fell Pap is depressed, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Physical Abuse, Red is a dick
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2018-09-17 14:09:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 22,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9328268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SansyFresh/pseuds/SansyFresh
Summary: Bad Brother AU/ Red is a dick.It's amazing, what can occur when it's your family that hates you.





	1. He Tries Why?

**Author's Note:**

> Guys, my internet hates me like, extremely. And I am kinda very sick, so there's that as well XD So uh...I have no idea when it'll be fixed?? But have this as an apology gift.
> 
> Enjoy

A slam of the front door brought Papyrus out of his thoughts, his head bent studiously over the pile of paperwork he had been told by Undyne to have finished before the start of the new month. He looked up from the kitchen to the living room and found that Sans’ coat and shoes were gone from their places. Another bar night then. Sighing a little in resignation, Papyrus stood from his chair, stretching a moment to loosen the kinks in his spine from sitting in one position so long, and walked to the fridge. Opening the door revealed exactly what he expected; a whole lot of nothing. A few take out boxes from weeks ago, maybe a hot sauce bottle in the very back for the nights Papyrus could no longer stand his own thoughts. He really needed to go shopping at some point. Maybe he’d do that tomorrow. Maybe.

 

Turning back to the table, Papyrus stared at the large pile of papers for a moment, all things that needed his viewing or personal signature. Fucking dogs. A quick turn back to the fridge and the hot sauce bottle was firmly in his hand, lid off and somewhere in the general direction of the sink. One quick swig and Papyrus felt a little more like himself, a little more grounded. Another small drink, and he even thought he might be able to finish up this damn paperwork. One more long gulp and he decided he would much rather finish his drink in the comfort of his room, preferably his bed. Everything else could wait until morning, fuck you very much.

~.~

“Why do I do this to myself…” Papyrus awoke with a groan, his head swimming from the fair sized bottle of habanero sauce he had downed without a thought the night before. As he sat up, skull cradled gently in his clawed hands, his foot kicked the now empty bottle across the floor, a soft clink following its collision with his chestplate. When had it gotten in the floor? He always put it on his...a look in the direction of his homemade armor stand let him know exactly why his valuable armor had ended up in the floor in the corner of his room. The thing lay in mangled pieces, wood splintered and metal bent and torn. He really had gotten angry last night.

 

A low growl came from the back of his throat. Now he’d have to add fixing that scrap heap to his list of things to do before Undyne came over to pick up the reports he was supposed to have finished. Great, he hadn’t finished those either, had he?

 

“Fuck me…”

 

“No, that’d be gross.” Papyrus turned to his brother’s voice, finding Sans standing in his doorway, face apathetic and eyelights locked on the mess that was his room. Wonderful.

 

“You know I wasn’t talking to you, asshole. Don’t you have work or something?” Fell desperately hoped his brother had to go to work. If he didn’t he would be judging and making small comments all morning on his younger brother’s mistakes. To his relief Sans looked away finally and nodded, his hands shoved in his pockets. Fell rubbed his face for a moment before getting to his feet and taking the two steps needed to be in front of his door, one hand on the handle as he glared down at his older brother.

 

“You don’t want to be late then.” He didn’t wait for a response before slamming the door shut, the lock turned with magic as he made his way to his closet, ignoring how Sans yelled obscenities through the wall at him. It wasn’t like Sans actually gave a fuck about what he did, he just seemed to get a good laugh out of making Papyrus angry or upset. He didn’t have time today to try and fend off his brother; Undyne would be there in an hour and he still had at least twenty reports to get through before she arrived. Steeling himself, Papyrus slipped off his clothes and started to get ready. He could do this.

~.~

Undyne stood in the kitchen, water boiling, noodles prepared, sauce warming, while Papyrus sat at the table, under orders to not move until he had eaten every scrap of whatever food Undyne gave him. Upon seeing his sloppy technique in the last few reports he had signed (he had given up around report number eight once his migraine had fully settled in), and the fact that he had a sickly gray tint to his bones from his long nights, his Captain had forced him into a chair and started cooking. Normally he would have been affronted by anyone using his kitchen without his permission, but since it was Undyne and his skull was still pounding, he thought he could allow it just this once.

 

“How much did you drink this time?” Undyne didn’t even turn to look at him as she asked, unwilling to let him evaluate if she truly cared or not. Papyrus grit his fangs for a moment, eyelights trained on the table.

 

“What makes you think I drank anything.” A fist slammed into the table right beside his arm; a lesser monster would have flinched.

 

“Don’t fucking lie to me, Lieutenant. How fucking dumb do you think I am?” Papyrus didn’t grace her with a response. They stayed like that for a moment, Undyne breathing slightly heavy and Papyrus refusing to look her in the eye, until the water began to boil, steam rising like small clouds.

 

“I haven’t gotten drunk in weeks. Last night was the first time in a while.” Papyrus could hear the lack of conviction in his own voice and inwardly cringed. That tone of voice was not going to win him any confidence. Undyne sighed from her stance in front of the stove, her hands moving both quickly and practiced as she finished her signature dish. Within a few moments Papyrus was staring down at a rather large plate of spaghetti, Undyne sitting across from him.

 

“Paps, you’re going to have to take better care of yourself. I can’t keep any monsters on the Guard who can’t.” She said it with a tone of anger and forced malice, but Papyrus could distinguish the false indifference from the genuine worry. He looked up, meeting her eye for a moment, before picking up his fork and studying his food.

 

“You burnt the sauce.”


	2. Why Does He Try

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy ^^
> 
> I really am sorry about the wait on these updates, guys...had a hard last couple weeks
> 
> But things are a bit better now, so I'm trying to get some stuff done ^^

Papyrus scowled as he strode along the Snowdin path, magic flaring dangerously around him. Anyone with their right minds would have jumped off the path simply to avoid him; however, most of the citizens of Snowdin really seemed to be missing a good portion of their mental capacity. Papyrus had already had to dispatch and dust several attackers; idiot members of a gang that thought they would be smart to take advantage of the Lieutenant while he did his rounds and no one would be around to help him.

 

Papyrus' title wasn't for show, a badge to wave in people's faces or a title to carry pretend weight, he had fucking earned it. And if these fuckers found that out far too clearly for their liking, it was fine by him. The only thing that bothered him was the dust that now littered the expanse of his scarf. He brushed at it agitatedly, until he came up on Sans’ station. Of course the idiot was asleep, the stench of alcohol filling the air around him.

 

He glared down at the absolutely pitiful scene his brother made, more than likely shitfaced and much too inhibited to protect himself should the worst happen. He sighed, looking up and down the path for a moment before relaxing slightly, his guard still up, but allowing more of his focus to center on his older brother. He had always respected Sans; as his only family, it was easy to do. Though as soon as their father had disappeared, Sans had seemed to...shut down. Papyrus, despite only being twelve years old at the time, took over as head of the family. He began training to enter the Royal Guard, fought tooth and claw for their home in Snowdin and lept the two of them safe and fed. As soon as he turned sixteen he entered the Guard and climbed the ranks swiftly, now Second in Command ten years later.

 

Sans, however, stayed just as lazy and cruelly carefree as he had been since the day their father died. Sans wouldn’t tell him that Gaster had actually died, but he knew it was true. In the world they lived in, it didn’t really surprise him any. What saddened him, more than anything else, was the fact that although Sans no longer had anything to worry about in his life, he had essentially abandoned their relationship as brothers. Papyrus couldn’t for the life of him understand why, it was just how it was.

 

Sans finally shifted where he sat, waking up. Papyrus growled loudly, kicking the station wall to get him moving faster.

 

“It’s time to go home.” He didn’t wait for a response as he began to walk back to town, hearing the other grumble angrily at him before keeping pace a few steps back. Anyone in town moved out of the way as they made their way home, both brothers putting off an aura of anger. Papyrus entered the house without a word, slipping off his boots and gloves at the door. Sans stormed in behind him, slamming the door shut and shucking off his jacket and tennis shoes before making a beeline for the couch. Papyrus scoffed.

 

“As if you didn’t already get enough damn sleep on the job.” He narrowed his sockets as Red smirked, very clearly still drunk off his ass.

 

“Well at least I didn’t dust anybody today. Thought you didn’t believe in violence, bro.” Red put a special emphasis on the word bro as he gestured to the dust on Papyrus’ scarf. Papyrus flinched, remembering his mantra as a child; that no one deserved death. How well he knew now that death was a part of this shitty life, same as everything else. He scowled down at his brother, who looked as though he was about to fall asleep once more.

 

“Well at least I’m not a sorry drunk excuse for a monster.” he snapped, spinning around and marching into the kitchen.

 

Sans stormed into the kitchen after him, eyelights barely focused. Papyrus felt sick to his marrow, but attempted to keep it hidden. Letting his brother see his weakness would do him no favors when he was shitfaced.

 

“I don’t like you talkin’ to me like that, bro.” Sans slurred, crossing his arms like a parent talking to a petulant child. Papyrus rolled his eyelights, then made the mistake of turning away from his older brother. Sans growled and grabbed a hold of his scarf, knocking him off balance and to one knee. Papyrus turned in shock and found Sans only an inch from his face, alcohol clear in his breath. “You are gonna listen to me, Papyrus. I raised you, you owe me!” Papyrus leaned back a little, disgusted by the spit that flew from Sans’ mouth as he spoke, before the words sunk in and he tore out of his grip, standing to his feet. He glared down at his brother, rage flowing through him.

 

“Where the fuck do you get that you had any part in raising me, asshole?! I raised myself! I got into the Guard and trained to help your pathetic ass! I got this house for you! And all you can fucking say is I owe you?!” Papyrus was breathing heavily; he could feel the tears of years of bottled up frustration and anger and hurt pooling in his sockets. Sans seemed to notice as well and straightened up, a large smirk on his face.

 

“Oh, did I hurt the poor babybones? You need me to comfort you, read you a bedtime story? Didn’t know you were still a little bitch, bro.” Sans had a look of utter glee on his face as Papyrus felt a few tears escape down his cheek, the taller stunned into silence. They stood there for a moment, Sans swaying back and forth on his feet, until Papyrus growled, eyelights flashing as tears flowed evenly down his face.

 

“If anyone is the bitch in this family, it’s you Sans.” Not a moment later and a loud cry rang through the room, Papyrus on the floor and Sans standing over him with a sharp bone in his hand. Papyrus looked up at his older brother, his only family, a hand over the socket Sans had just sliced through without a second thought. He could feel warm marrow seeping through his fingers as Sans stared down at him, breathing heavily and looking enraged.

 

“I told you not to talk to me like that, bitch.”

 

Papyrus watched as Sans dropped the bone and stumbled his way back into the living room, making his way slowly up to his room before slamming the door behind him. He sat in silence for a moment before everything hit him and a sob escaped his throat. He leaned against the sink as he sobbed, his skull throbbing as his socket screamed at him.

 

Why did he even try anymore?


	3. The Fuck?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, once again lol Sorry about the wait on this (im never gonna stop apologizing, i feel terrible for the wait between chapters T_T)  
> Here we meet some new players to the hell called Fell's Life.
> 
> Enjoy!!!

It had been five years since Papyrus had received his scar from his brother. No one had questioned it; he made sure to further cement his position by defeating Undyne and becoming Captain of the Guard so no one would have reason to. Undyne herself was one of the few who knew how exactly he had gotten the scar and one of the few he still trusted, even after demoting her to Second in Command. As long as he kept her Scientist alive, she didn’t mind the change in leadership. Not that she went easy on him, he still ended up hobbling home on a shattered tibia and several ribs snapped in half.

 

Even that pain was better than the emptiness he felt at coming home, finally at the top of the food chain, to an empty house. Sans had...well, Papyrus didn’t actually now if Sans had left of his own accord or killed himself. He never found any dust, there was no gossip of the brother of the Captain being dusted. He was left to assume that, after what had happened between them, Sans had finally decided living with him wasn’t worth his time. It was something he tried not to think about.

 

Anyone who cared enough to speculate assumed Papyrus killed him. Anyone who dared to say so in his presence was swiftly dusted by anyone else within hearing distance, wishing to keep the peace lest Papyrus decide to punish everyone for one person’s folly.

 

So, while he no longer had to fear for his brother’s life, nor his own if he thought on it, Papyrus felt numb. Emotionless. Worthless. Losing family, even in this hellhole of pain and misery, was one of the worst things a monster could undergo. To lose Sans..the only family he could really remember as what little he knew of their father slipped from him as time passed...Papyrus wasn’t certain any longer what kept him from falling down. It wasn’t his job, or his reputation, or his sworn allegiance to the crown. Those were only in his life so he could protect someone who no longer existed in it.

 

He sighed as he washed the dishes, relaxed in the silence of his own home. It hadn’t been a comfort to return to the two-story cabin since the day he had discovered his older brother was literally gone. But he was loathe to move, so there he stayed, ignoring the extra room upstairs, now empty and barren. Dinner was almost always procured from Grillby’s, his desire to cook food himself all but gone. That is, if he ate at all.

 

He finished drying the stack of clean cups, placing them in their established places before wiping down the counters and table, pausing in front of the sink once he was finished. He had nothing left to clean; the rest of the house was spotless. Which was a dilemma, as he did not wish to sleep and simply wasting his time watching tv no longer held any sort of value in his life. Not when he could look up at any time and see his brother’s door. Papyrus sighed, determined that if he wasn’t going to waste time at home, he could at least go check up on the mutts. Lazy assholes.

 

With his mind decided, he swiftly adorned his armor, scarf, and boots, giving the house one final look over before slamming the door behind him.

 

~.~

 

Of course the dogs weren’t were they were supposed to be, of course Lesser had attempted to attack him, of _fucking course_ the dumb mutt hadn’t backed off until Papyrus had had to dust him. So now, along with his sour mood, his scarf and armor were covered in dust, his LV had risen to 12, and the fucking lights in the house were on.

 

He knew he had turned them off, and there wasn’t a damn soul in either Snowdin or Waterfall that _didn’t_ know that was _his_ house. So, even as he angrily made his way up to the door, magic thrumming in his fingertips, Papyrus decided he didn’t give a fuck who it was. If they didn’t get out with his first chance he would dust them.

 

He didn’t bother dusting himself off, bones hovering at his side as he threw the front door open. His magic had already warned him of at least five presences just in his living room alone, though a more thorough sweep would take place once he had subdued whoever was idiotic enough to wait in his rather defenseless front room.

 

Within a moment the five monsters were surrounded in bones, a deathly red glow filling the room as Papyrus continued his way into the house, shutting the door behind him in case one decided to run. He looked about, anger clear in his expression, before it was replaced with shock. They were skeletons. All five of them, in increasingly ridiculous clothing that was both brightly colored and unhelpful in any sense of protection. He kept his attacks up even as they all began talking at once, though none of them really seemed all that threatened.

 

“Hey Boss, what kinda welcome is this?”

 

Papyrus froze as he heard the voice, turning to the skeleton on the farthest side of the room. At first his mind didn’t want to believe it, but the longer he stared, expression blank, the clearer it became that yes, that really was his brother. His brother who had been gone for a year. His brother who had left him, without word, and had apparently been having the best time cavorting with these strange skeletons, if the big smile on his face said anything on the matter.

 

He blinked, face still emotionless as the room went silent, the other four looking between the two of them with no small amount of trepidation. Papyrus stared at them once more, honestly more confused than anything, before lowering his attacks, the room going back to its simple lighting. He did not lower his guard however; he didn’t care if it was his brother, that didn’t make him a saint.

 

“Am I supposed to ask why the fuck you are all in my house without my permission?” Papyrus felt it was a valid question, as privacy was something he valued and assumed other monsters did as well. By the looks on the others’ faces, however, they didn’t seem to agree.

 

“Red let us in? Isn’t this his house as well?” Papyrus turned to find that the skeleton who had spoken up looked very much like Sans, though without the scars and bearing a gaudy blue bandana around his neck. The small skeleton had asked in a gentle, yet reproachful way, as though Papyrus was a child that didn’t know any better. First impressions be damned, this took the cake of any unpleasant situations he had been in.

 

“If you are talking about that bastard over there, he does not live here. He has not lived here in over a year, not that that is any of your business.” Papyrus folded his arms as they all seemed to give him a strange look, one he only recognized from those dumb enough to assume he had killed his brother when Sans had first disappeared. He hoped for their sakes that was not the case here.

 

“You shouldn’t talk about your bro like that, y’know? He’s been a bit stuck with us.” This time it was one of the taller skeletons talking, slouching in place in a dirty orange hoody. Papyrus regarded him for a moment before scowling, not exactly comfortable with the looks they were giving him, as if they knew him. They didn’t know shit, if they thought Sans was the innocent here.

 

“Well then, how about you all go back where you came from before I change my mind about not attacking you.” Papyrus was done with the conversation, especially when he caught the look Sans was giving him, though the others couldn’t see it. He had seen that look one too many times and it never lead to anything good on his part.

 

“You musn’t threaten people, other-me! I know your universe isn’t exactly the nicest, but-”

 

Papyrus stopped the stupidly dressed skeleton, tall as the one in orange, with a flash of his eyelight.

 

“I said, get out of my home before I dust you. Is that more clear?” Papyrus growled, though his anger only rose as not a one of them seemed to move to do as he said, instead looking incensed that he was not okay with them being in his damn house.

 

“C’mon, bro, you wouldn’t kick your own flesh and blood out into the snow, would ya?” Sans said this with a knowing grin, the same one he would wear when he knew Papyrus would give in to whatever he wanted. The grin Sans had worn the day after he had attacked him, as though nothing had even happened.

 

Something inside Papyrus snapped at the sight of that grin, and with a crack of his magic all five skeletons were held in the air, magic wrapped tightly around their souls. He ignored the sudden cries of outrage, shock, and pain, and threw open the front door. One by one they were all thrown out on their asses, deep in the snow. As soon as he was done Papyrus shut and locked the door, sliding down to the floor as he placed a warding shield over the house. His brother wouldn’t be able to shortcut in, and unless any of the other’s outside had LV as high as his own, they wouldn’t be able to break the barrier to get in.

 

As he sat against the cold, wooden door, Papyrus could hear his brother yelling curses at the house, at him. He smiled, one that didn’t even attempt to reach his eyes.

  
Nothing had changed after all. His brother was back and it hadn’t changed one damn thing.


	4. Why?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have an early chapter because I love you guys so much XD
> 
> Warnings: Self-harm, Attempted Suicide (he doesn't get to go anywhere with it), Near Death
> 
> Enjoy!!!

He lost track of the hours he sat in front of the door, the cursing and attacks against the magic surrounding his house having stopped soon after they began. It made sense, he supposed; they didn’t look particularly violent. Although, how they would have gotten along with his brother in that case, he wasn’t at all certain.

 

Once the lights of “daybreak” began filtering through the windows, Papyrus pushed himself up off the floor, his mind and soul numb and emotionless as he sat back down on the edge of the couch, elbows resting on his knees. Normally when he got like this, there was an...ache, of sorts. Deep, deep in his soul, much like an itch he couldn’t reach. Now, however, there was nothing. Simply nothing.

 

Raising a hand in front of his chest, he brought his soul forth with a soft ping. The dull, almost ash colored soul weakly pulsed in crimson hues, though the magic was nowhere near as vibrant as it should have been. It hovered over his hand for a moment, sparking slightly as his other hand rose, almost without his consent, a small sharp bone resting in his palm. He began tracing the scars that represented the hurt he had endured, both physical and emotional, the two largest catching his attention almost instantly. 

 

The first was from the day their father had died. The day he and Sans were forced to run from everything they knew into a world that hated life, abhorred love. The second scar, deeper and uglier than any other, matched the one he bore on his skull.

 

Papyrus chuckled, the noise as empty and lifeless as his sockets, the bone starting to gently prick at his soul. Now he felt something, something distant. It was better than feeling nothing at all, so he continued. Or at least, he tried to, before an icy blue aura lit up over his soul, forcing it out of his hands. His magic dispelled out of a confused shock, his soul hovering in front of him for a moment before his body joined it, lifting into the air. He only had a moment to catch his bearings before he was flung into the far wall, pinned there by the same magic that held his soul.

 

The front door burst open, shut again once what looked to be yet another small skeleton stormed through. He watched passively as the other strode over to him, eyelight flaring as it looked him up and down for a moment, crossing his arms.

 

“For a brother abuser, your soul sure is a mess.” Papyrus would swear till the end of his life that this skeleton sounded almost exactly like his brother, if not with a bit higher of a tone. The difference wasn’t really enough to note however, not when Papyrus was still trying his damndest to decipher whatever the hell the other had just said.

 

“Brother abuser?” He was a bit surprised himself at how weak his voice sounded, not that it seemed to lessen any of this strange skeleton’s anger at his words.

 

“Yes, brother abuser! Don’t even try to deny it, you piece of shit, we know you’ve hurt Red! No one gets fucking scars like that for no damned reason, and as far as I can tell your universe isn’t  _ that  _ messed up!” the other screamed in his face. Papyrus flinched back a little, the words sinking in after a moment. Red...his brother let them think he abused him? Hell, his older brother may have even told them himself that he did. The utter pain at the thought, the betrayal he felt, went through his entire body as a shudder full of disgust and pain.

 

His soul, still held in this skeleton’s magic, grayed over a little more, the red pulses of magic coming from it all the more dim. His reaction wasn’t missed by the other, who backed up a step, sockets widening as Papyrus felt tears, hot and stinging, begin to pool in his own sockets.

 

“If you’ve come to kill me get it the fuck over with.” Papyrus choked out, going limp in the other’s hold as his soul gave off little shudders of agony. The pain built upon itself, waves and waves of it hitting both his mind and soul before it simply became too much and he passed out, aware of a gloved hand closing around his soul.

 

~.~

 

Razz nearly choked as the alternate of his brother passed out in his hold, the other’s almost miniscule, panicked eyelights vanishing from tear filled sockets. Afraid the Papyrus was about to fall down, Razz quickly, gently, took ahold of his soul, magic surrounding and containing it. He frowned as he studied it for a moment, really looking at the damage the other seemed to have accumulated over the years. His own was much the same, the benefit of living in a universe like they did. But it shouldn’t have been this...weak, clouded. 

 

He set the other back on the couch, making certain he would be comfortable before sitting on the floor, the other’s soul hovering over his cupped palms. It was a bit intrusive, what he wished to do, but if he wanted the truth, now was the time to do it.

 

Calling upon his magic, small tendrils surrounded the soul he held, piercing the outer layer of nearly thick gray magic. He pushed back the first waves of disorientation, searching deep within the other’s memories. The process wasn’t long by any means, he was looking for specific instances of violence in this version of his brother’s life. What he found, however, did not at all match up with what he had expected to find. No wonder the other was so damn close to falling down. It was when he watched the replay of  _ that day,  _ however, that Razz nearly tore away from the connection, his mind forcing him to do it correctly before he had to lean back, frame shaking at the backlash of emotion he had felt.

 

How was this Papyrus not dust already? He had given up so long ago...Razz frowned as he looked down upon the soul he held once more, nodding to himself after a moment and feeding it his own energy. This was a version of his brother, innocent it seemed, and he’d be damned if he just let him die. Getting the other’s to listen would be a chore, but it was more than worth it.

 

His scowl softened as the other made a quiet noise as he slept, shifting a bit with the new magic his soul was receiving. Yes, he would help this poor version of his brother, even if he had to take care of his bastard of an alternate to do it.


	5. The Darkness Recedes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what guys :D I got my first fontcest hate today :DDDD
> 
> Seriously though lol I'm fine, it wasn't anything really bad. Just bascially the whole "you ship two brothers? thats disgusting."
> 
> Anyways, enjoy the update lol We add a new player into the fray that is Fell Pap's life!!!

The darkness receded, running from his fingertips as though it were afraid of him. A ridiculous notion, now that he thought about it, which meant that he must be in a dream. He couldn’t remember if he had ever been this aware in one of his dreams before; not that he dreamt often as it was. He looked around the strange void he found himself in, his body simply floating along in what seemed to be never ending...well, it wasn’t white, and it wasn’t black, so it must have been gray. Papyrus nodded to himself, satisfied with his own deductions, even if only for a dreamscape around him.

 

Why was he here, though? He couldn’t for the life of him remember what he had been doing before he had fallen asleep...had he even fallen asleep? He must have, or else he wouldn’t be here, but once again, why was he here? It was comfortable here, his mind and soul for once quiet and allowing him a moment of peace, which he appreciated. He couldn’t stay here forever though, he had things to do! He was Captain of the Guard, he needed to make sure the damn Dogs did what they were supposed to, that the supplies made it to the store without issue, that Sans got up and went to his jo-

 

Papyrus flinched as something sharp pierced what felt to be his soul, all but shattering the peace of mind he had been so grateful for. Why did thinking about Sans-? 

 

And there it was again. A deep pang of agony that struck his entire frame, his body involuntarily curling into itself with the force of the blow. What was he not remembering?!! He searched his mind, pushing past the layers of pain and deep-seated sorrow, determined to figure out what about his brother was causing him such pain. He was so close, it was at the tip of his fingers, all he had to do was push a little harder…

 

~.~

 

Papyrus sat up on what felt to be his couch, chest heaving as he gasped in air his body seemed to think he needed. One hand clenched into the chest of the shirt he wore, his magic flickered and sparked wildly around him, his emotions from both the strange dream and the turbulent thoughts from before he passed out. He trembled where he sat, his eyelights crimson pinpricks in otherwise black, empty sockets.

 

Suddenly there was movement in his vision, something moving much to fast for his frazzled mind, but before he could conjure the magic to protect himself two arms were holding him down, a heavy weight over him as he thrashed against it. He fought, or at least tried to fight against whoever was trying to hold him down, but found that his energy, which usually never failed him, was all but gone.

 

He fell limply to the the couch, fear that he refused to acknowledge forcing his bones to rattle softly. It was only once he began to calm down a little that he realized whoever was holding him was also talking, their voice a calm, but firm one that sounded much too similar to his own for his own comfort. He looked up, eyelights still mostly gone from their sockets, and found yet another skeleton staring down at him, a gold tooth replacing what looked to be a painful crack in his upper jaw.

 

“There ya are. Just calm down for me, yeah? We can’t have you hurting yourself again.” Papyrus just stared back in confusion. Who the hell was this monster and why the fuck was he in his house? What had happened after he had passed out? Dutifully ignoring the pressing memory of  _ why  _ he had finally given up, he frowned up at the other.

 

“Why am I not dead?” He was a bit shocked at how weak his own voice sounded; there would be no bluffing any who would think to take advantage of his weakened state. He was distracted once more from his rather terrible situation as the skeleton, who was still holding him down, albeit more gently than before, answered him.

 

“My brother. He healed you up until I got here. We kept ya stable enough until your soul decided you didn’t want to die any more. Took a couple days.” Papyrus recoiled at the sudden look of pity, attempting to growl when the other pressed down a little on his arms once more. “There’s no need to be rude. I understand why you’re confused and on guard, but that’s not needed here. You’re not even home right now, there’s no reason to lash out, you’ll only hurt yourself.”

 

At that Papyrus jolted a little. He had been taken from his home? Why? Where the fuck was he?! Before he could ask, however, a loud stomping came up to what seemed to be a door behind the couch where he laid, someone opening the door and swiftly closing it behind them.

 

“Brother, you better have kept an eye on our guest!” That voice...that was the small skeleton who had attacked him. Who had told him that his brother let them believe he was abusive. He stopped the thoughts before they could consume him once more, wincing a little as the skeleton on top of him sat up and stood to the side of the couch, arms folded as he smiled fondly at the skeleton Papyrus couldn’t even see.

 

“Of course, Sansy. He woke up once, but I kept ‘em from hurtin’ himself.” There was a grunt of approval before a small round face was in his own, bright eyelights looking him over with what looked to be genuine worry flashing over his features. Papyrus allowed the study of whatever the other seemed to be interested in for a few moments before something the tall one had said caught his attention. It added to his already surmounting confusion as to the identities of these skeletons. And, really, it was a welcome distraction from thinking about the things fighting to the forefront of his mind.

  
“Why do you look like my brother?”


	6. Peace...For the Moment at Least

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I am back from what might as well have been a mini-hiatus for this fic, and I've finally figured out where I'm going with it lol 
> 
> But ye, new chapters should be up more often.
> 
> Enjoy!!

Papyrus blinked as he stared at the two skeletons, his question seeming to put a pause to whatever they had wanted to say. The shorter grimaced after a long moment, then turned abruptly to look at his brother.

 

“You explain this nonsense! I will go make dinner.” And with that he was gone. Papyrus could only watch, utterly confused as the taller sat on the floor beside him. The apathy that had washed over him before the small lookalike of his brother had shown up had reared its head once more, leading him to remain laying down.

 

If their plan was to kill him, surely they would have done so before now.

 

His own lookalike, now that he really looked at the other, fished a what looked to be a pack of thin cigars from his pocket, lighting one and taking a deep breath. When he expelled the smoke, he thankfully did so away from Papyrus. Breathing in smoke, even when you were technically lungless, was not a pleasant experience for those not used to it. The silence continued for a while longer, only broken up by loud noises from what Papyrus could only assume was the kitchen.

 

“I suppose I should introduce myself first, that might help…” Papyrus looked up, finding that the other had more mumbled to himself than anything. So when he was suddenly offered a scarred, sharp-phalanged hand he couldn’t help but flinch a bit. “My name is Papyrus. My older bro’s name is Sans. But the others usually call us Slim and Razz.”

 

Papyrus could only stare. This was...this was insane. More than insane, this was ridiculous, this was ludicrous. It made him wonder if the stress of everything had finally gotten to him. That maybe he had finally just...snapped. Which would explain why he was talking to a self-proclaimed copy of himself.

 

Slim seemed to see his disbelief and smiled, taking another drag of his cigar before retracting his hand. “Sounds dumb, I know. It took m’lord a while to really believe the whole thing, but I can promise you we’re real.” Papyrus wanted to make a quip, something along the lines of how useless the promise of a spectre of his mind would be. He would have done so, if not for the fact that just thinking of the simple act of talking made him feel exhausted. 

 

He was sure the look on his face said enough, however, as Slim just shrugged and got to his feet. He walked close to Papyrus’ side, pausing with his hands held in a placating manner when Papyrus flinched back.

 

“I would try and convince you that you aren’t in any danger here, but I know you. Like I said, I  _ am  _ you. But we need to get some food into you, your HP is still at a dangerous level.” Slim frowned as Papyrus just continued to stare up at him, before sighing and turning back to the kitchen.

 

“Bro, I don’t think I’ll be able to get him to the kitchen.” There was a loud scoff, followed by short, sharp steps back into the living room. Soon the “version” of his brother was once again in his field of vision, his arms crossed in clear aggravation. The gesture reminded Papyrus more of his own mannerisms, rather than his brother’s, but the visage of an angry Sans, if he chose to believe this at all, put a chill of fear down his spine.

 

“Go and be with the others, brother. I will take care of our guest for now, and they will surely wonder where we are.” Slim looked as though he would argue for a moment, before he nodded, giving Papyrus one last passing smile before taking what he could only assume was a short cut. Which left him alone with this strange Sans.

 

“Don’t look at me like that. I am not your damn brother, no matter how I may look like him.” Razz, he remembered his own double had said, narrowed his sockets. His fear was apparently more obvious that Fell meant it to be, but once again, he was too tired, emotionally and mentally, to care all that much. He was so close to death once already; certainly it wouldn’t hurt to be so close once more. “If I help you sit up, will you eat the food I give you? I can excuse eating on the couch just this once.”

 

If he looked hard enough, it would appear this “Razz” was concerned over his well being. A foolish notion on his part; he was a Sans. Papyrus nodded however, simply gritting his teeth at the gentle touch of the other as he was sat up and set back into the corner of the couch. He watched passively as Razz ventured back into the kitchen, then returned with a plate of food, though he wasn’t sure what it was. His confusion was better hidden than his fear, as he simply took the plate when offered to him and began cutting a bite of whatever this wrap was.

 

It was something tan and flat, covered in a deep off-white sauce, rolled up and filled with what looked to be bits of meat, spices, and a white paste. His first bite put a shiver through his bones as the magic laden within surged through him, healing him. Razz was watching him in what appeared to be anticipation; again more a characteristic of himself rather than his brother. It confused him further, but he continued to eat, slowly healing himself back up to three-fourths full HP.

 

“How was it? I can only assume you have never had a burrito before.” The other seemed genuinely curious, rather than mocking, so Papyrus answered.

 

“I have not. It was different. What was inside it?” Razz started immediately into a detailed description of spices and techniques that Papyrus didn’t know, the chef inside him curious at this food he had never encountered before. He was still tired, ridiculously so, but somehow talking, or even just listening to this “version” of his brother was a fresh breath to his soul. He hadn’t had a true conversation in years, and especially not with his own family. If Sans could even be considered that any longer.

  
Yes, this was nice. For the moment, at least. Not that he expected this peace to last. It never did.


	7. Falling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight mention of self harm, Fell is not okay
> 
>  
> 
> Enjoy!!

It took a moment for Papyrus to process the question, but the moment he did it was apparent by his expression what his answer was. Before he could give his exact opinion on meeting his other alternates, however, Razz spoke up.

 

“I will not make you do anything you do not wish. But you did not make a very good first impression.” 

 

Papyrus huffed. They had come to  _ his  _ house,  _ expecting  _ him to be an abusive asshole, there was little he could do to change that opinion. Especially when his brother had done nothing to make it seem otherwise. Really, if he was being honest, it was Sans he had no desire to see, no matter what the deep recesses of his soul cried out.

 

“It will do no good.” Papyrus watched as Razz’s expression changed from exasperated to concerned, a sight he was used to after a week or so of staying with the Swapfell brothers, as they called themselves. 

 

Makes things easier to understand his ass.

 

The look of concern was over the state of his soul, the small, shriveled, lonely thing two steps from falling. Papyrus still wasn’t used to the periodic checks the two performed, especially since removing his soul from his chest wasn’t exactly a comfortable sensation. Papyrus sighed.

 

“I am not hopeless, I’m being realistic. If they believe my brother now, what is going to change that opinion?” Razz frowned, shifting on his feet. The two of them were on the outskirts of Snowdin Forest, one of the few places Papyrus could still find peace. Even if it wasn’t his universe.

 

“Well, both Slim and I have been talking to them. Sans and Blue in particular, Rus has been busy and Stretch is...less than receptive. But we’ve made some progress.” Razz gave him a pointed look. “Progress that would be greatly helped if you made a case for yourself.”

 

And that was the problem, wasn’t it. Papyrus didn’t care to make a case for himself, didn’t want to have to  _ prove  _ himself to skeletons he didn’t even know. Honestly, the most he wanted was to find a small, quiet place in the forest to dust, but he doubted his brother’s double would let him just keel over after all his hard work to keep him alive.

 

Razz studied him for a moment, plum eyelights flashing slightly before he turned back towards Snowdin. “Let’s head home, it’s almost time for Slim to come back.” Papyrus simply nodded in agreement, allowing the other to lead him. 

 

The trip was short, but upon entering the house Papyrus found Slim on the couch, nervously fiddling with one of his lighters. He was always a little afraid his double would eventually catch something on fire doing that, but if it helped he wasn’t about to say anything.

 

He was just lucky the two hadn’t taken a look at his wrists yet.

 

“Well? How did it go?” Razz shut and locked the door as he spoke, leveling a questioning glance in his brother’s direction as he removed his boots. Slim looked first to Papyrus, then back to Razz, as though he was sure he should say anything in front of the broken skeleton they were caring for.

 

Razz caught the look, his grin hardening. “Brother, anything you have to say, you can say in front of our guest.” Slim nodded, seeming chargrined by his brother’s tone. Papyrus didn’t quite understand what the other could possibly have to say that would upset him. There was very little any more that made him feel most emotions. It seemed he could still be surprised, however.

 

“Red came out and said  _ he  _ had abused him.” Slim jerked his head to Papyrus. “All kinds of shit, that he beat him within and inch of his life, that he-” Slim stopped speaking, looking down at the floor in disgust. “He told Stretch and Sans that shit. Right in front of me, like the monster housing his own brother wasn’t even there.”

 

Razz growled to himself, arms tightly folded. He had seen an almost entire history of Papyrus’ adult past. None of it was true, so why the hell would Red say these things! His surly alternate had never seemed to be one to openly lie before now. The silence from Papyrus himself was worrying, though. The two looked to him, Slim slowly getting to his feet as he began to tremble.

 

“He..he said I beat him? That I...that I raped him?” Papyrus’ voice was shaky as he tried to imagine ever wanting to do those things to his own family, his own brother...It was horrible, despicable. What had he done to make Sans hate him this much? To say that he had done such things?

 

“We know you haven’t done anything like that to him, Papyrus. We know that.”

 

It didn’t matter if they knew, what mattered was that Sans seemed to only care about making his life a hellscape, no matter what he did. No matter how he tried to please him, how he tried to push him out of his life.

 

Fell straightened, hands dropping to his sides and closing into fists. There was a dangerous spark in his sockets, one the two brothers had not seen from their charge in the entire time they knew him. Finally, Fell spoke, his voice dark, chilled.

 

“Take me to my brother.”


	8. Waste of Dust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's all downhill from here...

It had taken four hours, a lot of yelling, and several migraine pills before Papyrus convinced both Razz and Slim that he wanted, no,  _ needed  _ to talk to his brother. There was no sense in what was going on, no reason Papyrus could think of that would explain what his bro- what Sans was doing.

 

Family didn’t do this. Even with as fucked up as their childhood was, with as fucked up as their home was, family stood by each other. It was the only thing monsters had to hold onto; without some sense of normalcy in their lives most monsters dusted. But this…

 

He had to know why. He had to, if only for his own sanity, find out why Sans was saying those...those awful, horrendous things. Was it just to hurt him? Did he get a good kick out of it, making monsters Papyrus had never even met believe he was his abuser, his...Papyrus didn’t want to think about it.

 

Slim lead him around the house and to the basement door, odd in that back home they didn’t have a basement, but a shed. Slim grinned when he asked, explaining that while most things were the same, not everything would be. If he wasn’t so upset Papyrus might have taken more time to ruminate on that, think about what might be different between their worlds. As it was, his mission was more important.

 

The machine was larger than he expected, taking up a good sized corner of the room. Slim began flipping switches and typing into a large keypad, Razz stomping down the steps after a few minutes, locking up the house in their absence.

 

“I do not like this.” Razz growled. It wasn’t the first time he had asserted his disapproval, but Papyrus didn’t care anymore. Even if this ended with him dusting, he had to know what the hell was going through his brother’s skull.

 

“He’s gonna go whether you like it or not, bro. We might as well be there in case things go south.” Papyrus had no doubt they would, especially if the others attempted to attack him. None of this would go the way any of them wanted, Papyrus could feel it in his soul. He still stepped forward when Slim announced the machine was ready to go.

 

The three of them clambered inside, a slightly tight fit had one of them not been a Sans. There was a dull roar, a loud rumble, and then light. The next sensation was Slim jostling him as he opened the door, stumbling out into a very familiar basement. Papyrus would have assumed it hadn’t worked had there not been a distinct lack of old boxes piled everywhere.

 

There was a difference in the air here, in the atmosphere. It was the first thing Papyrus noticed as he exited the basement door and into the snow covered backyard. It even seemed brighter here, as though there was more light. No wonder Sans enjoyed it here. No wonder he had left him, if it was for this Papyrus could almost understand.

 

“They’ll be in the house, it’s almost nightfall.” Razz paused, looking Papyrus up and down and noticing his defensive posture. He sighed, crossing his arms as he thought. “Mutt, I want you to go first and let them know we are here and that we are not here for a fight.” Slim nodded and headed off immediately, his shoes making small crunches in the snow.

 

“I would rather speak to him alone.” Papyrus knew how weak his voice sounded. How broken, how pathetic. Razz simply sighed once more, standing at his side.

 

“I highly doubt Stretch will allow that, not that I want you alone with that bastard anyways.” There was a bite to his tone, clear anger directed to Sans. Papyrus was grateful for it, though he wondered how on earth he would be able to say what he needed to say to his broth-to Sans, with others being near.

 

The first knowledge he had of another presence was a wave of murderous intent at his side, a large pulse of magic he recognized as a shortcut alerting him to the fact that someone was now with the two of them, and did not mean well. Magic was furling at his fingertips, ready for his command if only to defend himself, only for the attacks aimed both at his skull and his soul to be blocked by a furious Razz.

 

“What the FUCK do you think you’re DOING?!” Papyrus found himself speechless at the pure anger in the other’s tone, though he was a bit distracted by the skeleton trying to kill him. The one in the gaudy orange sweater, apparently.

 

“You need to stay outta this, asshole! I’m giving him what he deserves!” Razz snarled in return, still blocking Papyrus’ body with his own. Papyrus didn’t realize he was trembling until Slim was behind him, holding him carefully. The two brothers cast a judgement fill glare in Stretch’s direction, the intent multiplying in a clear message. The other didn’t back down however; if anything he seemed to become more angry.

 

Papyrus didn’t understand how this version of himself, from what he knew as a non-violent world, could hate him so much.

 

“I told you if you brought him here I would kill him.” Stretch growled, attacks forming once more, only to be smashed by blasts from Slim’s pets.

 

“And I told you Red is a filthy bastard of a liar! But that isn’t why we’re here.” Razz seemed to be trying to contain himself, attempting to lower the tension so that Papyrus could actually get a chance to talk to his brother. He didn’t know how to feel about that.

 

“I don’t give a fuck what that syge wants from Red. He had better leave before I-”

 

“Stretch, it’s okay.” Papyrus flinched, hard enough that Slim’s hold tightened. There was his Sans, standing in the snow, looking for all the world as though nothing mattered. It was a sight Papyrus had grown used to over the years, a sign that his brother was angry, no,  _ pissed  _ with him. “Go back inside, I’ll be okay.”

 

Papyrus’ mind was screaming at him, to get away, to protect himself somehow. No, he had to do this.

 

“I’m not leaving you out here with  _ them _ .” Stretch’s voice was dripping with disgust, though neither brother at his side seemed affected. Sans simply shook his head, nodding back to the house.

 

“Blue is waiting for you inside. Neither of us want you to do something stupid, so please go back inside? I’ll be fine, I promise.” Stretch seemed to fight with himself for a moment, before nodding, leaving with a pop of magic. Papyrus had no doubt the other would be counting the minutes.

 

Sans took a few slow steps towards them, only stopping when both Razz and Slim’s magic flared. He tilted his head, then chuckled.

 

“Guess you finally found some assholes who give a fuck about you, bro. What’d you do, sleep your way into their protection? Razz is into some kinky shit.” Papyrus could feel the abnormal levels of anger drifting from Sans, just like the days he found he just had to stay out of the house.

 

It was terrifying, but somehow he found his voice, as broken as it was.

 

“Why do you hate me, brother?” It was a simple question. It was all he had needed to know for years, and yet only now was he asking. Sans grinned, his smile filled with malice as he cackled, eyelights flaring a brief, bright red.

 

“Because it’s so easy to hate a bitch like you, so easy to break you. So easy to convince these idiots that you’re the bad guy they should all hate. So much fun.” He laughed, the sound nothing short of dark, filled with spite and anger, before leveling his eyelights on Razz.

 

“You had better get that waste of dust back home before I have my way with him.” And with that, he had disappeared back into the house, as though nothing had happened.

 

As though Papyrus’ soul hadn’t cracked a little more.


	9. TV Channels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit more fluffy of a chapter lol
> 
>  
> 
> Enjoy!!

If the brothers had been clingy and protective before, they were outright,  _ viciously  _ defensive now. Which, Papyrus could understand that in a general sense, though he still wasn’t sure why they cared so much. 

 

He wasn’t family, and he hadn’t known them long enough to be allies. Why should they care this much about a broken monster like him?

 

The moment they were safe in the house back in their universe, Razz had asked to see his soul. It was a desperate request, though the smaller made it clear Papyrus could refuse if he needed to. He was still trying to get used to monsters, especially ones that looked so much like his brother, simply  _ asking  _ for things; still trying to get used to anyone looking at his soul, let alone studying it to make sure he wasn’t falling down.

 

Or maybe they were waiting for him  _ to  _ fall down? He didn’t know, none of this made sense. 

 

What he did know was that this was getting a little ridiculous. All he wanted to do was lay down and sleep (die) for the rest of his days, the act of simply  _ doing  _ things seeming too much. Was this how Sans had felt? This all-encompassing exhaustion, this complete lack of will to do anything? 

 

It didn’t make him feel any better to think so.

 

But instead of letting him waste away, which he deserved after everything, both Razz and Slim seemed adamant on having him do  _ something  _ with his time. If they were home, Papyrus was cooking, cleaning, playing some board games he had never seen before with Slim while Razz made them some kind of sweet.

 

If they were out and about, Papyrus was split between the two of them, occasionally going with Slim on trips to the store or to visit Alphys to give her the sentries’ reports. Seeing Alphys as the Captain of the Guard in this backwards universe had given Papyrus a bit of a headache for the rest of the day, though it woke his natural curiosity once more, as dormant as it had been. 

 

Razz would take him on his patrols through Snowdin and Waterfall alike, the two of them relatively safe as the smaller skeleton was the Lieutenant of the Guard here. No monster with half a brain would dare challenge the two of them, not with the matching LV they had.

 

Some days he would talk to Razz, or Slim, about how it felt to be a monster with such high LV; how much it bothered him some days to have the dust of those he knew on his phalanges. They would listen to him, yet another thing he would never be used to, and then remind him that it was a necessary evil, when one lived in a world like they did. If you didn’t protect yourself, you would die. There was no other way.

 

It didn’t help his conscience. But their support helped in so many other ways, it didn’t matter much.

 

~.~

 

“Hand me the remote, would ya? This one is boring.” Papyrus scowled at his alternate, keeping the TV remote firmly in his grasp.

 

“There are no other channels with something I haven’t seen yet. So no.” Slim frowned at his response, huffing playfully before leaning over in his space, attempting to reach for his prize.

 

Papyrus laughed, leaning further away, the hand with the remote stretched out as far as it would go in an effort to keep it away from Slim’s pawing hands. Soon the other was on top of him, the both of them growling playfully, before Slim simply gave up, going limp on top of him.

 

“Get off you fat bastard!” Papyrus cried in mock outrage, flailing as Slim adjusted himself to lay completely on top of him.  

 

“How can I be fat, I’m nothing but bone!” There was a matching huff of exasperation from the kitchen, Razz having watched the entire debacle from the doorway. Papyrus attempted to throw the other off once more, sighing in defeat as Slim laughed.

 

“C’mon bro, you shoulda just gave me the remote.” 

 

It took him a moment to register the words, before he went stiff, eyelights turning to pinpricks. His alternate picked up on the change in emotion almost immediately, sitting up and backing away, his hands raised. Papyrus sat up as well, eyelights locked on the other as Slim began to apologize. 

 

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t think, are you okay Fell? Damn it, bad question-” Papyrus waved a hand, taking deep breaths as he reminded himself of both where he was and who he was with. He only registered Razz’s presence beside him as he finally slowed his soul’s pulse in his chest, the panic abating. Slim had went silent, though he still looked wracked with guilt.

 

“I don’t...I’m not upset.”

 

“Bullshit. I shouldn’t have said that, and I’m sorry Fell.” Slim seemed truly upset that he had nearly thrown Papyrus into an attack. He was left to wonder if he meant it or not, but…

 

He wasn’t sure if he was ready for the answer to that question.

 

“It’s okay. Really. I’m fine, you just...caught me off guard.” Papyrus attempted to give a reassuring smile, even though it felt more like a grimace. But it seemed to placate the brothers, Razz giving them both a once over before going back to the kitchen, Slim settling beside him.

 

It wasn’t more than two minutes later that he was asked once more to “For the love of God, change the channel.”


	10. Pirate Flags

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I wanted to start writing 2k word chapters, but its taking me longer to write them. So I guess it's whatever *sighs*
> 
> Enjoy!!

The door was broken in, hanging by a final hinge that creaked dangerously. All the windows visible from the front of the house were shattered, glass covering the snow outside. Scorch marks covered where the ward had weakened, making the light brown clapboards of the walls black against the snow that was falling.

 

Papyrus stood in the doorstep to the home he had bought with his first payment as an official member of the Royal Guard. He thought it would hurt less, knowing that there was no way returning home after being gone for as long as he had would result in anything else. He had known it would be trashed, anything of value taken and sold, everything else left to rot.

 

Being there and seeing it was different from imagining it. 

 

He wasn’t sure if the tears pooling in his sockets had fallen or not as he walked through the remains of the living room, the couch and TV missing from their places and the walls full of holes; it was as though monsters had come in and just taken their fists to every available surface to vent their anger. He tried to remind himself as he walked that it was only a house, and more bad had happened here than good.

 

But this was the first home he and Sans had really  _ lived  _ in after their father had died. It was where he knew his brother was safe, when he wasn’t at the bar getting drunk off his ass. It was where he had invited Undyne for a friendly dinner once he had been promoted. She had even accepted, and as tense as it had been for the first few minutes, they eventually relaxed around each other long enough for Undyne to finally understand why he was so determined to rise up the ranks of the Guard.

 

Not that it mattered any longer.

 

The brothers followed behind him, their magic warning any away from the house. They hadn’t wanted him to come, but Papyrus had insisted. It was his home, as much as he might hate every second here, as fast as his soul beat at the thought of his brother walking through the front door like any other night.

 

He shook off the fears, taking the steps two at a time to get to his room, the door ajar. He didn’t expect much to remain, if anything, and was pleasantly surprised to find his skeleton flag with only a few new tears laying in the dust covered rubble. Steps sounded up the stairs behind him and Papyrus turned, ready to show off one of the few possessions he truly loved, only to meet the glare of an angry fish.

 

Panic gripped his soul for as long as it took for Undyne to cross the room and scoop him into an embrace, the hold firm and, oddly, comforting. He was hesitant to return it, his form stiff under his muscular arms, but before he could decide the Captain backed away, arms stiffly at her sides. 

 

“I’ve wanted to do that for a couple years now, Pap.” She flashed an unsure smile and it was as though it tweaked something in his blackened soul. Papyrus began chuckling, then laughing aloud in that way he hated. He had tears dotting his sockets when he finally calmed down enough to really look at her, the soft smile on her face completely out of place but entirely welcome.

 

An old part of him knew she pitied him and was enraged at the thought. It was a very miniscule part in what little he could feel. He knew if he was anything like he’d been before, he would have used that anger and made certain she never pitied him again. 

 

Now it was less disgust and more companionship that he felt. Less anger and more relief that she didn’t hate him for his weakness. As much as he hated the thought of her seeing him any different than a strong, capable skeleton, he was anything but. He was weak, useless, meaningless…

 

A strong hand clapped his shoulder, pulling him out of his thoughts. Undyne had a calculating look in her eye, a look much more common. It was hiding a sea of emotion that Papyrus wasn’t sure he wanted to sift through.

 

“You have to stay wherever it is you’ve been, Pap. The King has ordered your head for your disappearance and monsters have been looking for you. You’ve already seen what they did to your house.” Her voice was filled with anger, both for the situation and their monarch, and for the fact that she was losing what few would admit as a friend. It hurt him to think it, but he knew she was right.

 

“I only returned for my things. I don’t have a home here any longer.” He was sure his voice cracked; as the quick thinker she was Undyne didn’t say anything.

 

She joined him in looking for anything to scavenge, helping him carry a few things down to where Razz and Slim were waiting downstairs. Razz looked her over with a critical eye, keeping a close watch until she left, giving Papyrus a last goodbye before disappearing into the night.

 

There wasn’t much to get, anything he might have valued stolen or broken, shattered beyond repair. He kept his flag close to his chest; it was one of the few things he had found in the early days, when he still pilfered through Waterfall for clothes and supplies. 

 

Slim seemed interested enough in what he had recovered, helping him carry the few items back to the machine while Razz watched their periphery, making certain that no one snuck up on them as they made their way to the basement.

 

Once they were home, they put his things in the spare room they had set up beforehand, Slim helping him hang the flag above his small desk, Razz taking what little clothing he had found in the dust and mess and taking them to the laundry room. Papyrus sighed as they finished with everything, feeling a small sense of normalcy once more. 

 

The sudden, piercing screeches from downstairs shattered the feeling.


	11. Unrelenting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait on this, took a bit of a hiatus from my main fics because of different stuff. Hopefully I'll get back on it, so to speak, and this will have semi-regular updates.
> 
> I'm trying, I swear XD
> 
> Enjoy!!!

Papyrus nearly toppled down the stairs in his haste to make it to the bottom floor, Slim right behind him. The two of them stopped in surprised horror, Slim still only halfway down the stairs when he registered where the sounds had come from.

 

Sans stood in the center of the living room, Stretch at his side with his arm raised, orange magic flaring from his left socket. Slim growled at the sight of Razz, dazed and bleeding from a long, jagged crack through his skull and dangling by his throat on the other side of the room. Before he could attack in retaliation, Sans’ arm raised, picking him up by his soul and locking him in the bedroom upstairs, the door slamming shut with a final sounding bang.

 

Papyrus watched all of this with a numb soul, simply observing the one he had come to think of as his family (his  _ family _ ) being choked near to dust by a version of himself who was convinced  _ he  _ was the enemy here.

 

It made him wonder if  _ this  _ Papyrus did in fact know better. If this Papyrus was fully aware of his...of _Sans'_ true colors.

 

“Hey bro. Wanted to come say hi and this little asshole tried to attack me, how rude is that?” Sans’ eyelights flashed, his anger clear as it had been every time they had faced down like this. To Stretch, it may have appeared as though he was trying to be brave in the face of his abuser. That his little tremors were due to fear and not rage. Papyrus tried not to resent his alternate for his blindness.

 

“Are you such a coward, brother?” Papyrus couldn’t believe he had opened his mouth, let alone that he was speaking like this to someone who had beaten it in him never to do so. “Letting your lover do all of the hard work for you? Are you so afraid to kill me alone, that no one will know you did it?” He had hit a nerve, so to speak. Sans’ face grew bright red with anger, Stretch’s crossed with confusion. If it was to the comment on their relationship, Papyrus was no fool. He could see when his...when Sans was infatuated with someone. It never ended well.

 

A thump filled the room, leaving behind it a blanket of silence. Somehow Slim had stayed silent upstairs, though he figured the door had been quieted by Sans’ magic. Papyrus looked over to Razz, who had been deposited on the floor, his breath shallow but still present. So this other Papyrus wasn’t a killer after all. He wondered if that disappointed Sans at all.

 

“Stretch, would you please take Razz out and lock him in the shed? I need…” He paused, as if the words were hard for him to get out. As though he was afraid. “I need to talk to my brother alone, and I doubt Razz will let me.”

 

Stretch, to his credit, seemed to want to protest, but a single, imploring look from Sans and Razz was hefted in his arms, all but dragged outside. Papyrus found himself wondering if his alternate ever worked out, watching with a passive expression as the front door slammed shut and all of Sans’ attention was on him. It sure didn’t seem so.

 

He knew his death was coming, it was as inevitable as it had always been. Everyone died at some point. Some just sooner than others. Sans took a few steps towards him, wide smirk on his face and a single crimson eyelight boring into his soul. Papyrus was ready for his end. He welcomed it, even. His soul had begun to hurt, in ways he was certain no soul should ever ache. He only hoped the brothers knew how much he cared for them.

 

“You finally got a mouth on ya, livin’ with these assholes. I’d have killed them a long time ago for being annoying little shits, but that’d ruin this good guy image I’ve been working so hard to keep up.” He laughed, the sound unhinged. Papyrus couldn’t find it in him to care about that. No, what set a spark in his soul was the mention of harm against his family.

 

It wasn’t a flame of righteous indignation. It wasn’t a flare of unrelenting hate. His soul was too cold for more than a spark of anything resembling anger, but still, the spark was there. It loosened his form, spreading his stance until he looked almost like the Guard he had once been. Sans took in the change with a furious eye, as though appalled that Papyrus would even think of challenging him.

 

“I guess now is as good a time as any, bitch. Better when they’re out of the way and I don’t have to explain myself.” Sans tilted his head, smirk widening as he rose a single fist, sharpened bones manifesting behind him in startling numbers. Well, startling for those that may have not been expecting it. Papyrus fully expected every inch of Sans’ wrath.

 

He didn’t fight it. He couldn’t find the will to.

 

If he had any dignity left in his bones, he used it toward standing tall in the face of this final end, in staring what was once his brother in the eye as magic flared and the bones began to strike him down, screams ringing through the silent house. He would die as himself, not as the quivering worm Sans wanted him to be.

 

He swore it, even as the blackness took him.


	12. Can You Speak?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since there's more characters added now, I'll add a name list (which I should have done before, I apologize)
> 
> Papyrus- Underfell Papyrus  
> Sans- Underfell Sans  
> Comic- Undertale Sans  
> Rus- Undertale Papyrus  
> Stretch- Underswap Papyrus  
> Blue- Underswap Sans  
> Razz- Swapfell Sans  
> Slim- Swapfell Papyrus
> 
> So yeah, that's everyone. Pap and Sans are called Fell and Red by everyone else tho
> 
> Enjoy!

Pain. He could feel it, going through his bones in jagged waves, seeping from his wounds in rivulets down his scars. Everything was on fire, every part of him ached and burned without end. He couldn’t feel his arms, his legs, couldn’t feel anything. Nothing moved when he willed it to, so for a time the only thing Papyrus could assume was that he had indeed died and this was penance for his sins.

 

For a _long_ time, what might as well have been years or minutes or anything between passed without another thought, Papyrus simply floating in the darkness, pain his only company. Somehow, it wasn’t any different than when he was awake. His soul still ached, only that particular pain was now joined by the agony that seared the rest of his body.

 

He laid there, curled into himself, for what felt to be an eternity in total blackness, until finally, something changed. It wasn’t a big change, it was more a feeling in his soul. Like something, somehow, had gotten lighter. Was this what it felt like to die? All of his worried and pains slowly seeping from him? 

 

HIs soul gradually lightened until the pain was almost a throb at the back of his mind; still present, but no longer the brutal, constant stab it was. The pain in his bones leaked away as well, broken shards apparently popping back into place if the various sickening crunches he could hear were what he thought they were. Soon he couldn’t feel any pain at all, his body, mind, and soul numb as he floated in the nothingness.

 

“He’s coming back around…” A disjointed voice spoke from the darkness, startling him. Who was that talking? It sounded like his brother, but…

 

“Are you sure he’ll be okay…?” Another voice, this one more akin to his own, but less...grovely. Less like the owner was used to growling to assert himself. Papyrus tried to look around, tried to move, and quickly found that he couldn’t. It would have scared him if he wasn’t so numb to everything. As it was, he accepted whatever was happening. Voices were speaking to each other in an endless darkness and he couldn’t move to protect himself. What else was he supposed to do?

 

“I’m going to try and wake him up…” 

 

Papyrus winced as a magic took hold of his soul, the feeling of fingers ghosting over his soul making him alert even in his numb, dazed state. Someone was touching his soul, feeding magic into it against his will.

 

Light poured into his mind, and all at once his sockets were open, blinking rapidly as whoever had been holding his soul placed it back in his chest. He loosed a breath, chest trembling as though he had been holding it for a long time. A plain, pale tan ceiling rested above him, mostly absent of cracks and blemishes. He focused on that as he took stock of his body, noting that the pain was indeed much less than it had been. Someone had healed him? Why? He had been ready to die, and he doubted Sans would have stopped before he finished the job. Unless someone caught him, which was unlikely.

 

A shift of clothing to his right reminded him that someone had taken his soul from his chest, and was likely still beside him. The same monster who had healed him, perhaps? Or another copy who wanted him dead, but wanted to satisfaction of doing it themselves? Papyrus took a chance and turned to look, only for a face much similar to his own and Slim’s, albeit with much  less scarring, to pop into his field of vision.

 

“Hello other-me! How are you feeling?” 

 

It was a bit jarring, as much as it shouldn’t have been. Seeing his face without a single scar, without a single line from exhaustion or worry… Papyrus wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be feeling. Perhaps shock was the correct path, but with how numb he still felt, supposedly from being healed, he felt nothing more than a vague sense of surprise.

 

“Can you speak? Your jaw was broken, but Sans healed it well enough.” This was said with a worried, concerned grimace, as though the skeleton hovering over him actually cared that he had been broken. Maybe he did? It was a novel thought.

 

“I…” His voice was more grovely than usual. Papyrus swallowed before trying again, hoping he didn’t lose his voice halfway through the attempt. “I can speak.” The smile suddenly flashed at him was almost too bright, Papyrus all but flinching back.

 

“That’s good! I told you brother, he seems to be perfectly mannered!” The other turned slightly to look to his side, Papyrus following the line of sight, only to go rigid at the sight of his brother.

 

No, it wasn’t Sans, it wasn’t. There was no scar over the right socket, no golden fang replacing his left canine. No ragged leather jacket with a fur-lined hood, no, this Sans instead wore a simple blue coat, his bones as white and clean of scars as his apparent brother’s. Papyrus took a deep, calming breath, trying to remind himself that if they had bothered to heal him, they probably weren’t in good relations with his Sans. There was a good possibility they had even saved him, as ridiculous as that notion was.

 

Who wanted to save him?

 

At that thought, the faces of the brothers, his family, entered his mind, pulling a gasp from his throat as he attempted to sit up. Two pairs of hands were instantly on his sternum, keeping him from getting up. He fought against them, trying to get them to understand that he needed to know Slim and Razz were okay, he’d never forgive himself if Sans killed them, where were they?!

 

A deep, calm voice pulled him from his panic, soothing his fears. “The bros are fine, just a little banged up. Calm down, you’ll hurt yourself. Can you hear me Fell? You gotta calm down or you’ll damage your soul again.” Papyrus held onto the cadence of the voice, using it, as similar as it was to his own Sans’, to help him calm his breathing, until he finally relaxed back into the couch. 

 

The blue-coat Sans grinned in a lazy, kind way, removing his hands once he was sure Papyrus had fully calmed down. “There ya go, bud. We’ll talk about what’s all going on, but you need to eat first. Think you can do that?”

 

Papyrus studied the other for a moment, taking in his mannerisms and the smile he seemed to constantly wear. After a moment he nodded, watching as the other Papyrus took off to the kitchen.

 

He might as well see what it was they wanted.


	13. It's Oatmeal With Eggs In It, What Else Would It Be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which we get a few answers, but Fell is still a bit confused.
> 
> I'm honestly not happy with this chapter, but I'm two days late and I wanted to get it posted. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Yet another bowl of this…. “Dinosaur eggs oatmeal” was placed before him, what had to be the third bowl today. Granted this was also around the time he should eat again, replenish his magic. Papyrus looked up to meet the hopeful eyelights of his alternate, Rus as he had introduced himself, and sighed.

 

Would it be worth it to refuse? Ask for something else? Would there be any kind of punishment if he tried? These two didn’t seem to be overly menacing, if anything Rus was a creampuff of a monster, but that didn’t make him trust them any more. Especially Comic.

 

There was something too...similar, in this Sans. Something much to normal, compared to Razz. This Sans reminded him way too much of his own, and it was anything but comforting. 

 

A small clearing of a non-existent throat brought him back to the current situation, his red eyelights flitting up to meet Rus’ blank sockets before looking back to the bowl of oatmeal he held. Deeming it a waste of energy to complain, Papyrus took a sizable enough bite, aware of the pleased hum from the other as he began to eat.

 

“Now that your magic has risen an acceptable amount, my brother has decided it’s okay to discuss what happened when your...brother…” He seemed to be having trouble deciding on how to word what he wanted to say, so Papyrus finished the thought.

 

“When my brother tried to kill me, you mean.” Rus looked highly uncomfortable, and even a little sorrowful over the topic, but nodded hesitantly.

 

“Yes. That. My brother wanted to be here to answer any questions you might have, but he was….needed elsewhere.” Rus paused, his smile dropping for a moment before it was back with full force, all but blinding. “So I will answer any questions you might have! Nothing is off limits, I’m sure this is all very confusing.”

 

Well, he was right about one thing. All of these happenings had done nothing but muddle Papyrus’ already confused mind. He hate that feeling, his thoughts usually sharp and concise. Now they were a muddy mess of a pile of randomness. He took a few more bites of oatmeal if only to assure his other self, watching carefully as Rus made himself comfortable on the other end of the couch, careful to not touch Papyrus’ own carefully drawn limbs.

 

He basked in the silence for a moment, trying to decide what the best question would be, before finally determining what he wanted to know most. He kept his eyelights trained on the floor as he spoke, his voice still rough.

 

“Where are Razz and Slim?”

 

Rus seemed surprised at the question, for what reason Papyrus wasn’t sure but still, the other answered without hesitation.

 

“They’re in their universe. Sans is actually there now, making sure they’re healing well enough. Your...brother was not pleased when you didn’t...well, die. They are doing fine, though, I can promise that! I talked to Razz on the phone just yesterday!” The other finished with a reassuring smile that Papyrus felt would have more effect if he wasn’t still worried out of his mind.

 

“Why didn’t I die?” His voice broke only once, but he was genuinely confused. He had been ready to die, all but falling down in his eagerness to leave behind the pain. He had accepted his fate, and yet? Here he still was. Rus seemed to think on this one before he answered, his face squinting.

 

“We don’t know. By all accounts, you  _ should  _ be dust. Which, I am very happy you are not! If you had dusted I never would have had the pleasure of meeting you!” The sincere way Rus said it did nothing but further confuse him. Why does he care so much? The only plausible explanation is that he doesn’t, that it’s all a ruse to get him to lower his guard. Papyrus finished up his oatmeal, unaware of the careful sockets that looked him over with a worried air.

 

“Why am I here? Surely I’m more trouble than it’s worth.” A look of horror came of the other, Papyrus finding the sight almost humorous. Instead of Rus answering, however, the next voice to speak was Comic’s.

 

“You’re no more trouble than anyone else, Fell. I know you don’t believe that, but we’ll remind ya anytime you need it.” The smaller skeleton strode to the couch, unabashedly keeping an eye on Papyrus. At least, he assumed that was what the intense stare was supposed to mean. He looked away after a moment, unwilling to keep up a staring contest with the other that reminded him so much of his own Sans.

 

“That’s right, Fell. You’ll never be any trouble for us, even if your brother tried to come here. We can protect you!”

 

If Razz and Slim, who had LV that rivaled his own couldn’t protect him, he doubted these two balls of fluff could do so. But then again, he didn’t really trust his first impressions of either of them, so who was he to say. He simply nodded, looking from the kitchen to the bowl in his hands, then over to Rus.

 

The other took the hint, getting up and quickly taking his bowl to the kitchen to be washed. Papyrus would have done it himself, but it seemed his legs still didn’t really work. He was alone with Comic, the other still staring at him with that unsettling expression. He tried to ignore it, fiddling with his scarf until Rus returned.

 

Comic had something he wanted to say, Papyrus could feel it. He wondered how long it would take for him to say it.


	14. Scrambled Eggs and Scrambled Heads

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really am sorry about the wait on this chapter, I didn't mean for a full month to go by without an update, I promise TnT Have a longer chapter as compensation :D
> 
> I've already got most of the next chapter planned out so it shouldn't be too long of a wait.
> 
> Enjoy!

Papyrus watched with wide sockets as his alternate flew about the kitchen, flipping pancakes and stirring gravy, whisking eggs and cutting into sausage patties to make certain they were cooked well through. Rus did it all with a grace that Papyrus was envious of, somewhere deep in the recesses of his soul. His alternate was a marvel, cooking with both efficiency and a strange talent that was honestly breathtaking.

 

He was seated at the kitchen table, Rus having insisting that he get up from the couch and stretch his limbs a bit, even if the small journey only took him from the living room to the kitchen. Rus had been required to support him as they went, his legs shaking and threatening to give out from under him with every other step. Though, every time he thought he would fall the other was there to keep him standing.

 

Soon a plate laden with all sorts of hearty foods was placed in front of him, another placed in front of the seat to his right. A bottle of ketchup was put beside it, Papyrus’ face scrunching at the thought of putting such a condiment on eggs or sausage. Though, perhaps Comic was simply being a Sans. If Papyrus remembered correctly, his own Sans had a strange fondness for drinking mustard, if the numerous bottles he could find scattered throughout the house in odd places had been any indication of it.

 

Soon both Rus and Comic were seated on either side of him, three plates set and the three of them ready to eat. Papyrus waited for the other two to begin eating before he took a bite of anything, still a little uncomfortable eating with both of them. Rus he had already eaten enough around for it to not be as awkward, but he still didn’t know about Comic. Something about him seemed off, something instinctual that Papyrus just couldn’t put his finger on.

 

It made him uneasy, to say the least.

 

“Fell, what do you think? I wasn’t sure how you liked your eggs, so I thought scrambled would be an acceptable alternative.” Papyrus startled at the sudden address after a while of silence, the awkward air keeping them focused on their food. He looked from Rus to his plate, then shrugged with one arm.

 

“Scrambled is sufficient. I do not believe I’ve tried them prepared in any other fashion.” He jerked again as a shocked gasp sounded, Rus beginning to list off all the different ways one could cook eggs and all the recipes he could make for him to try. Papyrus tried for the life of him to keep up, but with his still frazzled mind and soul, the words soon turned to white noise, his alternate talking too fast for him to even attempt it. Papyrus found him looking back and forth between Comic and Rus, who had still not stopped his excited babbling, at least until Comic seemed to realize their guest was having a hard time.

 

“Maybe you can go to the store after breakfast, bro. Get a few things for him to try.” Papyrus marveled at the soft way this Sans handled his brother, redirecting his attention with only a few words.

 

“That’s a wonderful idea, brother! I’ll go right after our meal!” And with that the conversation was done, Rus and Comic going back to enjoying their meals and Papyrus left to try and decide if he really was awake. Even Razz and Slim hadn’t acted this way around him. If anything, living with them was much like living at home. The world was still dangerous, the air surrounding Snowdin still heavy with the suspicious glares shared between monsters.

 

The only major difference, besides the apparent swap of several key figures that Papyrus had come to know, was that the brothers themselves actually acted like _brothers_. They loved each other. Cared about each other. Even in a kill or be killed world.

 

It made him wonder where he and his own brother had gone so wrong.

 

Here, however, things were...almost backwards, one could say. The two skeletons acted like brothers, but they also didn’t seem worried about anything. They weren’t scarred, they didn’t have that natural exhaustion in their manner that spoke of constantly watching your back. They didn’t seem to have the same disposition as any monster Papyrus had ever met, and it was...confusing, to say the least.

 

Mentally shaking his head (it didn’t really matter in the long run what he thought about these two, after all), Papyrus went back to slowly eating his own food, the likelihood of him actually enjoying it when his thoughts still roiled like a maelstrom in his mind all but none. Still, he needed to refuel his magic, if he was to get better.

 

He didn’t realize Rus had begun speaking once again until he caught the other staring at him. Swallowing his current bite, Papyrus looked silently between the two brothers, Comic seemingly uninterested in whatever was going on and Rus staring at him in expectancy. Papyrus stared back, unsure if he should simply ask the other to repeat what he’d said, or if he was supposed to say anything at all.

 

The rules were still hazy here.

 

Thankfully, Rus deemed it necessary to repeat himself without the prompt. “Did you have any allies in your world, Fell?”

 

Papyrus blinked at the use of the word allies, wondering if the other meant it the same as a monster from his own world would use it. Allies were anyone you could trust to not kill you when your back was turned, to help you when you really needed it. To avenge you when you dusted. Allies were few and far between in his world, all but nonexistent for the younger brother of Sans the skeleton. Monsters were afraid of his brother, afraid of what the older might do if seen consorting with the one monster he openly hated.

 

The only monster that had truly never been afraid of his brother had been Undyne. She had also been the only one that he would have considered a...friend, of all things. It hurt, knowing he would likely never see her again.

 

Rus was still patiently waiting for his answer, his resting smile seemingly unchanging. Papyrus looked away as he answered.

 

“I had an ally in Undyne… my Undyne. She was... _is_ the Captain of the Guard in my world.”

 

“Undyne is the Captain here as well! She and I are great friends! She even tried to teach me how to cook, though...she is not the best teacher. Though do not tell her I said so.”

 

Papyrus blinked. It seemed some things were more similar here than in Razz and Slim’s world. Undyne had attempted to teach him to make lasagna at one point. It ended in a burning house and several angry Waterfall monsters.

 

Rus asked him more questions about his world, such as whether he had joined the Guard or not (he _was_ the Captain, not that it meant much), the status of his puzzles (traps, but he didn’t care enough to correct him), and whether or not he enjoyed the food at Grillby’s. Of all the questions, this was one that was answered merely with the look on his face. Rus nodded knowingly, starting on a long winded rant on the various downfalls of the restaurant, Comic chuckling every few words.

 

Papyrus watched the shorter skeleton out of the corner of his eye as Rus spoke. There was just something about him that made Papyrus nervous. Comic didn’t seem to fully trust him, even as injured as he was, which made sense. But at times it seemed like Comic expected him to do something against Rus, something to hurt him. That was the thing that made little sense; Papyrus didn’t think he could ever get up the intent to hurt his happier copy.

 

“I will be heading to the store and a to run a few other errands, will you be fine here Fell? Sans will stay here with you until I return, I promise.” Papyrus was suddenly forced from his vigilant watch of the shorter skeleton, Rus having already cleaned up most of the mess in the kitchen as Papyrus slowly ate.

 

Not really seeing any other option available to him, even though being left alone with this sketchy copy of his brother was the last thing he wanted to do, Papyrus nodded his assent. Rus smiled happily, seemingly pleased as he gave his brother a small hug before heading out of the kitchen and to the living room.

 

“Don’t forget to pick up your sock, Sans! I expect it to be gone when I get back!” Rus called out as he stood in front of the door, hand resting on the handle. He paused, seemingly thinking hard, before meeting Papyrus’ eyes. “Please do get some rest. I’ll have a whole host of dishes ready for you to try all this week! Sans will keep you safe, I promise.” And with that Rus was out the front door, an odd light shining through before it closed fully.

 

Papyrus had little time to pay attention to it as the tension in the room ramped up, his focus turned entirely on Comic. Said skeleton stared back without hesitation, the two of them locking eyelights.

 

Comic then sighed, settling back into his seat with an exhausted air. “Welp. I think it’s time we had a conversation, buddy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus- Underfell Papyrus  
> Rus- Undertale Papyrus  
> Comic- Undertale Sans
> 
> Some comments would really make my day ^^


	15. An Explanation, Finally

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I know you're getting sick of hearing this from me but I really am sorry, I did not mean for this to take so long to write. But I finally did get it done, and I swear I want to do better, so I'm going to do my best to actually do that. 
> 
> I'm honestly really not all that happy with this fic in general? It hasn't gone the way I wanted it to (which is weird for me to say, I know, since I'm the one writing it), but I'm sticking with it because you guys seem to like it and I've gotten this far, may as well go the whole way, right?
> 
> I hope you enjoy.

Papyrus stared down at his plate of food, most of it gone and working to fuel his magic, but a few remnants of gravy and sausage remained. He found he didn’t have the desire to finish any of it. Not with Comic staring at him, assessing him,  _ judging  _ him. Not when the one buffer of relative safety between him and this... _ version _ of his brother was no longer with them. Not when he wasn’t sure if he’d live through the next ten minutes. 

 

He looked up, meeting eyelights with the smaller before they flitted away almost instantly. He was a coward, afraid of someone who reminded him so much of his Sans and yet, if he’d learned anything from Razz, Comic may be nothing like Sans. But Comic was so much more like him, both in appearance and manner, that Papyrus couldn’t help but connect them in the depths of his subconscious. 

 

It was silent, the only sound the slow monotonous ticking of the small clock resting on the wall above the stove. Papyrus focused on the sound, focused on keeping his breathing even. Focused on not giving into his fear and revealing his weakness in front of this unknown enemy. Was Comic an enemy? He was so tired of not knowing what he should be afraid of.

 

“We should really have a talk.” Comic’s voice shattered the silence, Papyrus jolting a little in place as his eyelights shot over to him. He was staring directly at him, eyelights sharp and aware. Papyrus stared back for a moment before he had to look away, focusing somewhere below the other’s neck. 

 

“What about?” His voice was so much softer than it used to be. So lacking of the power and authority it’d once had. Even when said authority was simply a show. Even when he had never felt any semblance of power a single day in his life. He was weak, a shell of a monster. Whatever Comic was planning to do, Papyrus probably deserved it.

 

Comic seemed to study him a moment longer, sockets narrowing slightly before his smile relaxed ever so slightly. “About what happened with your brother. Mind if we head to the living room? It’ll be more comfortable.”

 

Papyrus wanted to ask what the hell comfort had to do with anything, but kept his mouth tightly shut as he nodded his acceptance. 

 

He went to get to his feet, only for a cool, almost serene magic to surround both him and his soul in a blue hold. Regardless of its intent, Papyrus locked up, his limbs going tense as his eyelights shrank in fear. Comic simply picked him up with his magic, moving him from his chair in the kitchen to the couch in the living room, remaining a few feet away the entire time. Once Papyrus was settled Comic drew his blanket over him, as if giving him something of relative comfort to hold on to. Or whatever his intentions were, at this point Papyrus was completely confused. He simply huddled further into his provided covering and looked expectantly at Comic, who has settled on the floor a few steps away. 

 

That was yet another conflicting behavior that Papyrus was having difficulty connecting with Comic’s overall manner. Was he going to hurt (kill) him or not?

 

Comic took a moment to think, looking down at his hands and fiddling with the mittens he wore before finally taking them off and stuffing them in his pockets. After a long moment of silence, Comic finally looked up to meet his eyelights, holding his look even as he seemed to be uncomfortable with what he was about to say.

 

“I was there, when Red first showed up.” 

 

Papyrus kept silent, but he had suspected as much. Comic had been there, the first night that they’d all met, when Sans had shown up after being gone for so long as though nothing had happened. 

 

“I believed him when he said that his home was less than friendly. He had the scars to prove it, and he curses worse than a drunk Doggo.” Comic chuckled to himself, though the sound was less amused and more bitter. “When you threw us out that one night, it seemed pretty clear that everything we’d been afraid of was true. He always seemed... _ acted _ like he was the victim of at least some kind of abuse and always hated talking about you.” 

 

Once again, this was nothing surprising. It still hurt, but it didn’t surprise him.

 

“So when he had even openly started talking about the things you’d done to him and how you’d hurt him, was the reason for most of his scars, we really didn’t have any reason not to believe him.” Now Comic looked...almost shamed. Regretful. It was a look that Papyrus was altogether unused to.

 

“And then I got the call from Slim.” The regret turned to anger. “He was near hysterical, screaming that Red was there, that he couldn’t get out, that you were in danger, that he could...that he could hear you screaming and there was nothing he could do.” Comic nearly choked on his words, looking more and more uncomfortable the longer he spoke, though there was still that anger simmering below the surface.

 

“I’ve never heard him so upset. Never that panicked about anything. So I hopped in the machine and headed for Swapfell. The door was all but kicked open, bones everywhere; it was a fucking mess. I came in just as Red was screaming something or other, magic all wonky around him, and…” Comic paused to look up at him, before quickly looking away again. 

 

“You were just about dead. Knocked down to 5 HP. For some reason, it wouldn’t go any lower than that. I saw him hit you, and it didn’t budge. When he saw me, he bolted. I guess he got Stretch wherever that bastard was and got out. I let Slim out of his room and we healed you enough to move you here. Paps was pretty excited about it, heh. He always believed the best of you.”

 

There was an unspoken apology somewhere in there, Papyrus could hear it. Instead of acknowledging it, however, he simply stayed quiet.

 

“So yeah. I figured you’d want to know what happened and why you were here.” Comic leaned back on his hands, feigning exhaustion. Papyrus studied him for a long moment, then finally looked to the floor. The other wasn’t lying. Papyrus had gathered as much as Comic had been talking. He was telling the truth, even though some of it made little sense. 

 

He took a long breath, held it in his chest for a moment, then released it, finally looking back to Comic.

 

“Is there any way I can...is there any way I can call them?”

 

Comic seemed a bit surprised by his request, but quickly fished his phone from his pocket even as he asked, “You mean Razz and Slim?” Papyrus nodded, so Comic got to his feet and brought the phone over, typing in the number as he walked.

 

“Yeah, sure, just uh, it’s ready to go so just hit send.”

 

Papyrus gingerly took the offered phone, pressing the small glowing button before pressing it to the side of his skull. It rang a few times before a familiar, annoyed voice answered.

 

“What the fuck do you want now Comic? I have things to do, and talking with you is not one of them!” 

 

Papyrus felt his chest constrict at the proof that Razz, at the very least, was still alive, and if he was alive that meant that Slim was still alive. A few tears pooled in his sockets as he took a breath, a small, miniscule smile on his face.

 

“Hello Razz.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please consider leaving a comment on your thoughts, it really makes my day and helps me know that you guys care ^^


	16. Outside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lookit that, a chapter appears!!!
> 
> (i should just stop apologizing by this point. we all know its gonna happen, so)
> 
>  
> 
> Enjoy?

“And listen to me, Fell. You keep yourself safe, alright? Don’t take shit from anyone! Especially not the goody two shoes, lazyass version of me!” Razz commanded. Papyrus couldn’t help the fond smile he had on his face as he nodded, even though the other couldn’t see him. 

 

“I will.” His voice was still hoarse, scratchy as all hell, but after Comic had gotten him a small glass of sweetened tea, still warm from being brewed that morning, his throat had felt better than it had. Razz gave a last parting goodbye, his voice wavering even as he tried to sound strong for Papyrus’ sake, Papyrus returning it with a sad, but content tone. Once the line went dead, Papyrus took the phone from his head, staring down at it for a moment before handing it back to Comic. 

 

Comic took it back gently, pushing it into his pocket before stuffing his hand back in his hoodie. “Did that…” He paused, seemingly searching for the right words. “Did that help any?”

 

Papyrus stared at him for a long moment, then nodded softly. It had helped. To know that what he considered to be his only family now was indeed alive and well...it took some of the dark pressure from his soul. 

 

The two of them sat in the silence for a moment longer, Papyrus finding solace in the quiet, Comic merely existing in the moment. The entire house felt as if it were always going to be quiet. Like it had always been this quiet; even when, just this morning, the three of them had had a very...interesting conversation around what could be possibly the richest breakfast Papyrus had ever had. It was so...different from anything Papyrus was used to. 

 

Comic seemed to tire of the endless silence eventually, standing from where he’d taken a seat on the floor during Papyrus’ phone call. “If you want, I can show you your room. Paps spent a lot of time sprucing it up for you.” Comic nodded up to the upstairs balcony, where three doors sat. Papyrus looked from the doors, back to Comic, then down to his legs. Comic chuckled, his magic filling the room once more as he took a gentle hold of Papyrus’ soul, carefully lifting him of the couch and into the air, floating softly beside him.

 

Papyrus couldn’t help but flinch as the foreign magic touched his own once more, the cool, enveloping feeling completely undesirable. Comic’s magic was...different, to say the least. It wasn’t as invasive as Undyne’s. It didn’t have the heat that Sans’ did. It was cool, almost on the wrong side of cold, but it was...refreshing? 

 

Comic started up the stairs, Papyrus floating along behind him at a sedate pace, his knees pulled up to his chest with his arms wrapped around his chest. His fangs ground together the higher they got; the fact that Comic could drop him back down the stairs didn’t escape him. But nothing of the sort happened. They made it up to the second story with little fanfare, Comic leading them straight to the bedroom as quickly as he seemed able, the magic gripping his soul letting a few feelings of comfort and peace through the connection. It was...as comforting as it could be, in such a situation. 

 

They stopped at the door in the middle of the balcony, the setup seemingly a mirror copy of what Papyrus’ home back in his universe. The Swapfell brother’s house had been much the same. A downstairs comprised of a kitchen, living room, and laundry room, and a stairway that lead to a second story balcony that held two doors for two rooms. The only difference here was that there was a third room. It made Papyrus wonder what it had been used for before the bubbly version of himself had turned it into another bedroom.

 

“Well, this is your room.” Comic opened the door with little care, pushing Papyrus through and setting him on the bed before shuffling in behind him and standing on the other side of the room. “It’s not much, but Paps figured you could go shopping with him to get you some more stuff. Since you’ll be staying here for the...foreseeable future.”

 

Papyrus nodded, folding his legs as he settled on the bed, eyelights looking over the room in an honest curiosity. It was on the smaller side, not that it bothered him any. The only fixtures were the full sized bed, a small desk situated beneath a window covered in a heavy, deep crimson curtain, and a medium sized dresser for clothing. All in all, Papyrus couldn’t think of anything else he could need. Except perhaps clothing, but there really wasn’t a way for him to get any more. 

 

Comic watched carefully as he inspected the room, apparently making sure it was to his liking. Papyrus still couldn’t get a solid lead on the shorter skeleton. Once it was clear he was finished, Comic took a glance around himself, before sliding his hands in his pockets, relaxing into a slouch. His face, however, radiated concern.

 

“Hey, you know...you know we won’t let you get hurt here, right? I know my bro seems like...well, like a weakling, but neither of us would ever let anything happen. Not after what Red did.”

 

Comic was genuine. Papyrus knew that much. But he also knew just how dangerous Sans could be when he really wanted something. He knew how much stronger a monster with LV would be than two monsters with none who’d lived in what seemed to be a much more peaceful universe. He knew that, if Sans really wanted him dead, nothing would stop him. Instead of saying any of this, however, Papyrus simply stayed silent. Comic seemed to know his answer, however, and went to say more meaningless comforts when the front door downstairs opened loudly, Rus calling inside.

 

“I’m home! Come help me put away the groceries brother!”

 

Comic grimaced, looking as though he wanted to stay and try to convince Papyrus further that nothing was going to happen, but seemed to think better of it, his brows unfurrowing as he walked back through the bedroom door. “Comin’ Paps. Was showin’ the edgelord his new room.”

 

Papyrus listened as the two started their almost playful bickering, a small, all but nonexistent smile on his face. Maybe he would be safe here. Maybe Sans would come and try to kill him again. In the end it didn’t really matter.

 

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Papyrus took another look around the room, his eyelights finally falling on the thick curtain blocking most of the light from outside, though what he could see was strangely bright. Pushing himself to the edge of the bed, Papyrus left his legs unfurl, moving them carefully over the side and pushing himself up to stand, ignoring the shakiness of his lower limbs in favor of slowly moving across the small space from the bed to the desk, his hands coming down to rest on the wood, supporting him as he finally got his legs to stop shaking. 

 

Once he was certain his legs weren’t going to give out on him at the worst moment, Papyrus looked up to the curtain, taking one hand from the surface of the smooth desk and using it to pull the thick cloth to the side.

 

Well. That was new.


	17. Grass and Clouds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a new chapter lol I feel like, with all the different things I'm writing, the different projects I have, and all the things I'm trying to write before I get them posted, all of my main fics will probably stick to updating at the least once a month. Sometimes it'll be more than that, but that seems to be the general thing that works.
> 
> Enjoy!

It was green. It was green, it was blue, the most vibrant colors he’d ever fucking seen, the lot of them nearly making his sockets ache. He stared for a long moment, hungrily taking in every little detail, before he realized. This was real. This was real and he could go right out there, he could be there, touch the green and see the blue and-

 

Suddenly he was falling, his legs giving out from under him as he fell to the floor. He stared up at the window, sockets wide. There was a hesitant call from downstairs, and Papyrus was desperately forcing himself back to his feet and using the bed and walls to make his way to the door. Throwing it open, he used the wall outside to move down the balcony, starting for the stairs without a second thought. There were a matching pair of startled noises as he tripped, tumbling down a step or two before two different magic signatures wrapped around his soul, stopping his decent and lifting him from the stairs.

 

“What’re you thinkin’, kid?” Comic sounded haggard, worried. Rus looked much the same, worriedly wringing his hands together as the combination of their magic slowly lifted Papyrus down the stairs and over to where they stood, letting him on his feet but close enough to the wall that he could support himself on his own. 

 

“Did you need something? You could have called for one of us, we’re happy to-” 

 

Papyrus cut them off, moving as fast as he could past them both and through the living room to the front door. Understanding seemed to spark in their eyelights as the two of them followed him closely, Rus’ arms outstretched in case Papyrus fell again.

 

“There’s something you should know before you go outside, Fell, it’s really very important.” Rus sounded worried, though he looked apprehensive when Papyrus paused to turn and look at him. He was sure his sockets were still wide with wonder, his eyelights pinpricks in his shock, and the expression alone seemed to pacify the other skeleton. Without another word Papyrus moved carefully to the front door, his legs cooperating more the longer he walked. Grasping the golden handle, he twisted it, swinging the door open and all but falling out onto the small porch.

 

It was warm. Golden light spilling around him as he wobbled his way to the large expanse of green grass, all of it lush and so much more vibrant than anything he had ever seen before. He knelt down, grabbing handfuls of the stuff, letting his bones feel the textures and the sunlight bearing down on him. Wide eyelights looked up to the seemingly endless sky, dotted with white fluff over an endless blue. The sun hurt to look at, burned his eyes, but he couldn’t get enough of it.

 

He hadn’t realized he was crying, tears streaming from his sockets as Rus knelt beside him, a bright smile on his face, almost as bright as the sun. Comic stood beside the both of them, smile soft as Papyrus’ breath hitched, his sockets closing as he slumped in place. He never thought he’d ever see the Surface, the sun, the sky…

 

It was all so overwhelming in the best of ways.

 

Rus took his hand, holding it between his own as the two of them sat there, simply feeling the warm wind on their bones. Nothing could ruin this moment. Not even his brother could ruin this.

 

~.~

 

Comic looked back to the two Papyruses, his grin softening as they both stared up at the sky, then turned and quietly walked back inside, shutting the door with a soft click. His phone vibrated angrily again in his pocket, the smile on his face dropping as far as it could as he fished it out, flipping up the screen and pressing answer. “What’s up?”

 

“Heya Sansy. How’ve you been, I ain’t seen ya since that get together a few weeks ago, and yer machine’s not listed. What gives?” To Comic, Red’s voice was filled with suspicion, but to anyone that didn’t know he’d tried to kill his own brother it would have sounded concerned. He was sure Blue and Stretch were in the same room, wanting to know what’d happened, why they couldn’t come over to the one universe that was on the surface anymore. After all, Comic hadn’t called to tell them why his machine had went offline. Giving an inward sigh, Comic forced a grin.

 

“Ah, yeah, the damn thing is giving me trouble. Sparks every time I try to boot it up, so I shut it down for the time being. Don’t want it to explode if someone were to try and come over.” His voice was tight, too tight, Red would know something was wrong. Instead of calling him out however, Red just chuckled.

 

“That’s bad luck. Lemme know when ya got it back up and runnin’ yeah? And uh, Comic?”

 

Comic swallowed. “Yeah?”

 

“Let me know if you hear from my brother. Somethin’ happened over with the assholes; their machine ain’t workin’ either and I know they were keepin’ him there. I don’t ah...I don’t feel safe not knowin’ where ‘e is, ya know?”

 

This was a test. Not a good one, considering Comic had been there when Red had been screaming for his  _ brother  _ to “fucking die already!” But if he was right and Blue and or Stretch were listening in, Red was still acting. Which meant that unless he wanted Red moving mountains to get here to try and finish the job, he had to act as well.

 

“Yeah, I gotcha. I’ll let you know if I hear from them. Or from your brother.”

 

“You promise?”

 

Well. Comic grimaced, taking the phone away from his head as he thought. What was he supposed to say? Sanses took promised seriously. If he promised, and broke it… Any promise he made to Red would be broken to keep Fell safe. The others would understand.

 

“Yeah, I promise. I gotta go, Paps wants me to try his new spaghetti recipe. I’ll call ya later.” Comic listened as Red gave his own goodbye, hanging up and shoving his phone back in his pocket before going to the window. Fell was sitting fully on their lawn, his hands resting on the ground, feeling the cool grass, the sun shining down on both of them. He’d have to tell Paps what’d happened. And Razz. Sighing, he turned, heading for the couch. He’d nap until they came back inside.


	18. Sweets and Treats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're nearing the end of this journey, my friends ^^ 
> 
> Enjoy!

There was never a day after that when Papyrus didn’t go outside for at least a few minutes. He couldn’t get past the softness of the grass, the boundlessness of the deep blue sky, the sun that warmed his bones from what felt like every angle. He couldn’t get enough of it. When Comic had woken him up late one night, allowing him a moment to collect himself before leading him out to the balcony outside, he found himself mesmerized by the canvas of stars that seemed to stretch out as far as the eye could see. 

 

The rest of his days were spent much the same as they had been. He would eat with the brothers, be left with one or the other for the day, even though for the grand remainder of the time he slept, and then did something with them in the evening, be it some kind of game he’d never played before or watch some show or movie on TV he’d never seen. They never seemed to care if he needed more rest, or if he didn’t understand a certain rule, or if he was too sick to eat.

 

It was….different. He wasn’t fully sure if it was a good different, or a bad different. It was better than his life before, but he hadn’t been able to fully convince himself that he deserved it. His soul still ached at times, though after a long talk with Razz Rus checked it daily for any changes. So far no one had forced healing magic into him, so he supposed the changes, if any, had been minimal. 

 

Sometimes he’d get a feeling, deep inside of himself, that reminded him of who he used to be. Proud. Strong. Perhaps even arrogant. Now he wondered how much of that was an act to everyone, including himself. He felt...hollow. Like an empty shell of a monster that never really had an identity. 

 

Sighing to himself, Papyrus set down the pencil Rus had provided before leaving that morning, looking over the papers scattered on his desk. New puzzles and traps, each more daring and bold than the last, stared back at him. Rus had been encouraging when Papyrus had told him that he wanted to sketch a bit, and likely once he saw his designs he’d be delighted to work with him on them. 

 

The house was near silent, other than the faint strains of the television downstairs. He doubted Comic was actually  _ watching  _ anything; it was on for ambient noise more than anything else most of the time the brothers were home. Papyrus listened for a moment, just to see if he could parse anything being said, then gave up after a minute of senseless babble. He itched to  _ do  _ something, but what that something was completely escaped him. 

 

Slowly getting to his feet (standing and walking had become increasingly easier over the past weeks, thankfully), Papyrus stared out his window for a second before moving away from his desk, shuffling across the floor and to the open doorway. Staring down over the balcony, he found Comic, as expected, snoring away on the sofa. Rolling his eyes, Papyrus softly shut the door, moving down the balcony and to the stairs on socked feet. He made his way down the stairs, ignoring the slight creaking with each step until he reached the bottom floor.

 

Comic slept peacefully, a small amount of drool on his chin shining in the light coming from the open windows. Papyrus stared out into the sunlight for a few moments before moving on, padding through the living room and into the kitchen.

 

While Rus had never explicitly stated he  _ couldn’t  _ use the kitchen, he’d also never told him he  _ could _ . But with the boredom (or whatever the itch was) still pushing at the inside of his sternum, he felt he might as well take the chance. Taking the overstuffed recipe book down from the top of the fridge, Papyrus leafed through the pages, eyelights flitting over the words. Soon enough one caught his fancy, a simple dessert that didn’t require many ingredients or even that many steps to make. 

 

Setting the page on the counter, he placed the book back up on the fridge, going over the ingredients one more time before he set about finding them.

 

~.~

 

Comic watched with a soft grin on his face as Fell smiled, a real, genuine smile, taking his treat out of the oven and carefully placing it on the stovetop to cool. He’d already taken a picture of Fell at work to send to Rus, the caption “Look who decided to cook” answered with several heart and cake emojis. It was encouraging watching his brother’s alternate doing something he clearly enjoyed. Much better than seeing him waste away, his soul fluctuating by the day. 

 

He watched as Fell removed the apron he’d pilfered from the closet, still unaware of his presence as he put it away and began looking for plates and a serving knife. Comic considered going back to the couch for another nap, taking a step back from the kitchen when a deep voice spoke.

 

“If you’re just going to stand there you could tell me where your brother keeps the knives.”

 

For a moment he was stunned. It was the first time Fell had spoken to him that wasn’t tinged with that instinctual fear, that wasn’t slightly trembly with the unspoken fear that Comic was just like his brother. The utter differentness of it stopped him from answering right away, which lead to a faint stiffening of Fell’s shoulders and now he was kicking himself.

 

“We uh, we moved them recently. I think he keeps ‘em in a box under the sink.” They’d have to move them again, after this. Fell was getting better, but they didn’t want to take any chances. 

 

Fell nodded, moving to the sink and rummaging in the plastic box inside before finding a serving knife. Almost grinning in satisfaction, he returned to the treat, cutting it into equal pieces before plating them both up a piece and placing them on the table. Comic watched as he poured two glasses of milk, setting them beside the plates before standing at the edge of the table, hands gripping each other. There was a moment of thought before he stepped into the kitchen, sitting down with a grin before silently digging in. 

 

After a moment of silence, Fell sat as well. Comic counted it as a victory, and continued eating.


	19. Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When you can't depend on your biological family, who can you turn to?
> 
> Enjoy.
> 
>  
> 
> (just a friendly reminder that Papyrus=Fell Papyrus, Rus=Tale Papyrus)

“Fell, could you hand me that boot!”

 

Papyrus looked up from where he was lacing up his own pair of boots, finding a single red, leather shoe sitting within arms reach. Taking it in his hand, he admired the care to give the leather it’s sheen Rus must have taken before he tossed it over. Rus caught it one handed, his other pulling his sock up from where it’d fallen down his foot.

 

He cinched the laces tight, giving the new felt an appreciative look over as Rus stood, straightening out his coat. 

 

“Are you ready to go, brother?”

 

Papyrus swallowed, even as he nodded. Rus had taken to calling him brother, much like Razz and Slim had. It bothered him less now than it had. “Yes. We will be taking the...car, yes?” His face scrunched with the unfamiliar word, Rus grinning in amusement.

 

“Yes indeed! The store is a little far for the amount of groceries we’d need to carry back. After all, we need a good amount of food.” Rus nodded to himself as he held out a hand, Papyrus staring at it for a moment before taking it and standing to his feet. Brushing his hands over the hem of his own coat, he wondered once again just how much the brothers had spent on these items.

 

He’d tried to refuse them, but both Rus and Comic both had insisted he deserved them. While it was becoming a bit easier to believe that he deserved some things, a nice, soft coat and a pair of supple boots had seemed a bit excessive. Still, they wouldn’t take them back and unless he wanted to hurt them, taking them back to wherever they’d bought them wasn’t an option. He couldn’t even imagine hurting either of them, no matter who he’d been. He owed them too much.

 

Rus waited patiently at the door, keys in hand and scarf wrapped firmly around his shoulders. It made Papyrus’ soul ache for his own scarf, though the poor piece of rough fabric had been utterly decimated after…

 

Shoving his hands in his pockets as he forced the thought away, he followed Rus out the door, standing on the wooden porch as he waited for him to lock up the house before the two of them headed down the steps to the driveway. Rus’ cherry red convertible sat waiting, the top already down for the two of them to enjoy what little breeze and sun they’d receive on the drive to the local supermarket. Papyrus opened the passenger door, staring down in hesitant apprehension before slowly sliding into the soft, felt seat. Rus held no such qualms, hopping over the side of the car and slipping into the driver’s seat in one smooth motion.

 

Papyrus watched as the key was put in the ignition, going over the terms in his mind as Rus started up the radio, flipping through stations before reversing down and out of the driveway. They’d gone on a few trips before, mostly on late night runs to the store or the library. Being in the car always put Papyrus’ nerves on edge, but he’d become more accustomed to the loud noise and general bumpiness of the road. Rus kept his speed to a practical level, the drive taking no more than a few minutes from the driveway through the center of the small town they lived in.

 

He took note that the store seemed much busier during the early hours of the day, the sun nearly to the center of the sky, light glinting off the small sea of cars parked about. Papyrus tried not to squint at the sight, but found himself staring mostly at the pavement as he followed Rus to the doors. The light inside was much more manageable, if not a bit harsher than the lights at home. 

 

Every time he entered the store it never ceased to astound him just how much food there was. All the colors and varieties had done little more than overwhelm him at first, though after a few trips it had become as normal as he suspected it would ever be. 

 

Rus, as usual, lead the way, pushing a cart along as he retrieved his list from a pocket in his coat. Papyrus followed along, grabbing things from shelves and placing them in the cart as directed. Buns, hamburger, hot dogs, sausages, condiments, various chips and dips, and other such sides were all pilfered and placed in the waiting cart, Rus smiling patiently with every item. Soon enough they’d gathered everything on the list, plus a few items Rus had seen and decided they needed. 

 

Checkout went smoothly enough, the cashiers more than used to their presence. They elected to carry the bags out to the car, rather than bringing the cart. Rus popped the trunk as they walked up, directing Papyrus to place his bags inside first before following suit. Another short car drive and they were carrying the bags inside, Rus chattering happily about the warm weather and a comment he’d gotten on his blog the night before. Papyrus listened politely as he followed behind, setting the bags in his hands on the kitchen table as Rus paused, looking out into the kitchen window, a bright smile lighting up his face.

 

“Would you mind going out back for a moment, brother? I think Sans needs your help with something.”

 

Papyrus’ brow rose, Rus giving him an innocent smile. Sockets narrowing, Papyrus attempted to look out the window, but was shooed towards the backdoor by a still grinning Rus. Deciding to play along, he turned to the screen door, sliding it open and stepping out. He shut it behind him and turned to where the grill and patio tables were set up, only for his jaw to drop.

 

Slim had the gall to laugh at him, Razz’s sockets scrunched in mirth, the two of them standing in casual dress by a grinning Comic. Papyrus stared between the three of them, hands wringing as tears dotted his sockets.

 

“Well? Aren’t you going to greet us, brother?” Razz spoke up with a smirk, arms raised a bit in expectance. Papyrus walked forward, grabbing him up and pulling him into his chest, tears falling down his cheekbones. Slim started to snark something rude, so Papyrus pulling him bodily into the embrace, the two brothers laughing and hugging him back just as tightly. 

 

He’d...he’d needed this. Needed them. Needed family. He was just so happy they were there.

 

His brother could burn in hell for all he cared. This was all he needed.


	20. I'm So Sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important Note. Please read the whole thing before leaving angry messages lol.

So...I really, truly am sorry to do this. Especially when we were close to the end, but... I'm discontinuing this work. I know I said I'd try to never do this kind of thing, and that this fic has been going a long time, but I just... I can't write it any longer.

 

I'm not leaving the fandom. I'm not quitting writing. Lets get that out of the way first. I have a ton of other projects I'm eager to get started on, though that's not why I'm not finishing this one. I wanted to finish this one, I just can't.

 

This fic started out as a way to work out my salt towards the Abusive Fell trope. I wanted to flip it on it's head, make Red the bad brother instead. And at first, that's what it was. But it turned into something that I'm not at all happy with. In fact I hate it. Its sloppy, weirdly pieced together, there's no rhythm to the writing, and part of that can be blamed on the fact that I started writing it a year ago, but I just kept going when, honestly, I should have stopped. I didn't want to give up on it, not when you guys seemed to like it, not when it was one of the only things I was getting a good amount of feedback on. But I hate it. I hate every bit of it. The only parts I don't hate are the ones at the very beginning, before I went haywire with the plot. 

 

I'm so sorry about this. I hate this so much, but if I was being honest with you guys? And I try to always be honest. This fic has made me want to stop writing entirely. Its added to my depression. Its added to my stress. And I cannot write on it. I can't finish it. Because I don't want to stop writing. I don't want this fic to be the reason I do.

 

You can all yell at me now lol. I deserve it. Love you all.


End file.
